


7 Days

by concavepatterns



Series: 7 Days [1]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Cuddling, Domestic Fluff, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Polyamory Negotiations, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Smut, Stevie ships it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:06:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22613806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/concavepatterns/pseuds/concavepatterns
Summary: Usually it's brought up with a subtle wink and nudge; fans or interviewers or any number of anonymous internet folk testing the waters, trying to feel out their reactions. But then there are the brazen ones, the people who'll ask them point blank without fear:so are you guys gay or what?And they've always laughed it off with a wink and a joke.Not yet, they'd say in nearly perfect unison. A denial, but enough wiggle room left over to still keep people wondering. They've been walking a fine edge of what's acceptable as comedy and frowned upon as baiting for what feels like forever, is what it all boils down to. So it's time they finally put this thing to bed.
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Series: 7 Days [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1900708
Comments: 229
Kudos: 334





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Six chapters are already written, so there will be regular weekly updates for a while. This is gonna get fluffy as heck and I make no apologies :)

He knows what people say about them.

Best friends for over 35 years. Inseparable through grade school and high school. College roommates who willingly admit to having wrestled each other for fun. Creative partners so committed to the idea of succeeding either together or not at all, on more than one occasion they'd turned down what could've been huge solo opportunities without so much as batting an eye.

Codependent. Devoted. Blood brothers. Soulmates.

_...Lovers?_

Usually it's brought up with a subtle wink and nudge; fans or interviewers or any number of anonymous internet folk testing the waters, trying to feel out their reactions. But then there are the brazen ones, the people who'll ask them point blank without fear: _so are you guys gay or what?_

And they've always laughed it off with a wink and a joke. _Not yet_ , they'd say in nearly perfect unison. A denial, but enough wiggle room left over to still keep people wondering. They've been walking a fine edge of what's acceptable as comedy and frowned upon as baiting for what feels like forever, is what it all boils down to. So it's time they finally put this thing to bed.

"Look," Rhett says, pulling his car out of the parking lot and squinting behind his aviators when the bright orange rays of evening sun hit him smack in the face, "all I'm saying is maybe it's time we took advantage of it."

In the passenger seat beside him, Link snorts in a way that's somehow both gross and endearing, not bothering to look up from whatever he's busy doing on his phone. "We're not making a sex tape," he deadpans, though Rhett can tell from the little twitch at the corner of his mouth that he's trying his damnest not to smile.

Rhett's answering laugh is probably louder than the joke calls for, but he likes seeing the way Link's face breaks into a wide, delighted grin at having successfully landed the punchline.

"Oh gosh no," he agrees, still chuckling as he smoothly turns the wheel, merging into the thick of the slow-crawling chaos that is their evening commute home. "But you know people are always gonna wonder about it, so I'm saying why not address it head on? Say 'we hear you and this is our response'? I'm sure it'll cause a stir for a while, but just like everything else on the internet, it'll be old news before you know it and everyone'll finally move on for good."

That part seems to catch Link's interest and he clicks his phone screen off, fingers still busy playing with the device even though his attention's all on Rhett now. Funny how his hands always have to be occupied with something, but ask the guy to drive a car or cut a sandwich while also carrying a conversation and suddenly it becomes an impossible - and usually frightening - attempt at multitasking. Just one of the many odd quirks that make up Link Neal. Rhett bites the inside of his cheek, wanting to smile a little at the thought.

"Alright, I'm listening," Link tilts his head back against the headrest and raises both eyebrows at him. "You got an actual plan or are you just spitballin' here?"

He _had_ been spitballing mostly, but as soon as the words are out of Link's mouth, a plan's already starting to faintly take shape in the back of Rhett's mind.

"What if..." he starts slowly, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and letting the pieces fall into place as he talks, "we pretended to actually be together? Say for one week we lived in the same house, tried to act like we were a couple, and shot it all like a video diary? We could get a lot of material out of it too. A whole week of GMM. An Ear Biscuit or two, maybe. You saw how well the Buies Creek videos did. People would eat it up."

Link blinks at him, face giving nothing away before he finally cracks the tiniest of smiles and jokes, "Will it relationship?"

Rhett can't help the obnoxiously loud belly laugh he lets out at that, head thrown back as he directs the bulk of his laughter up at the roof of the car. "Yes! Like an experiment. We give it a shot, document how it doesn't work, and then when we say we're just friends, no one can argue otherwise."

"You're crazy, man." Link shakes his head, disbelieving but also pretty amused by the whole concept if the slowly-forming grin on his face is any indication. "The whole idea's crazy, not to mention it would completely disrupt both our families' lives for a whole week."

"Not necessarily," Rhett counters, letting his foot press a little harder on the gas pedal when the traffic in front of them finally starts to dissipate, leaving an open lane ahead that Rhett gratefully takes advantage of. "It wouldn't be much different than when we're touring. Better even, cause we'd still be in the city. We could even do it at one of our own houses."

"Mine," Link says immediately. "I'm not switchin' up my whole routine for this."

Rhett keeps his eyes straight ahead on the road, hoping that'll be enough to conceal the satisfied grin that's threatening to overtake his whole face."So you'll do it? Cause that makes it sound like you're doin' it, brother."

Link nudges his glasses up, eyes quickly darting over to look at Rhett's profile for a moment before he ducks his chin and focuses on turning his phone over in his hands again. "Let me sleep on it at least. If it turns out I've lost my mind and still agree with you in the morning, then we'll talk to Stevie."

"Hey now," Rhett argues mildly, angling one elbow out to bop Link on the arm, "all my ideas are good ideas. If you think you've lost your mind, it's only because it was never there to begin with."

"Ooh, that's cold, man," Link chuckles. "You're really gonna start our romantic relationship off by insulting me?"

"Gotta get it all out of my system now before we start filming." Rhett shoots him a quick side-smirk before returning his attention to the road ahead.

"Right," Link says dryly, "cause as soon as the cameras start rolling, you'll be nothing but a model boyfriend."

Rhett shrugs one shoulder noncommittally and takes the opportunity to get in another good poke with his elbow. He's got the perfect pronounced weenises for it, after all. Or would the plural be weeni? He'll have to look it up later. "You don't know me, Neal."

"Pretty sure I do, actually," Link comments, but he doesn't shift away from the touch, and Rhett doesn't bother retracting his elbow, so their arms stay pressed together in companionable silence for remainder of the ride home.

* * *

It all falls into place with a surprising amount of ease. The girls had been talking about a joint trip back to North Carolina anyway and the kids are thrilled at the prospect of spending time with cousins and grandparents, so dates are chosen and flights are booked and just like that, a week's been carved out for them to proceed with their plan. 

Rhett doesn't even try to keep the smug look off his face when Link reluctantly agrees to the whole deal, fresh out of plausible excuses without Christy or the kids to fall back on. Granted, that smugness quickly earns him a sharp punch to the arm, but he can see the spark of excitement brewing in Link's eyes, the way he walks a little taller and laughs a little brighter, the anticipation of planning a new project together breathing fresh life into him. So it's worth it.

It's only when they take their idea to Stevie that Rhett expects to encounter the first of their roadblocks. One of the things he and Link have always valued most about her is her ability to ground them in realism, point out the flaws that their creative passion tends to make them oblivious to. So Rhett goes into the conversation with low expectations, steeling himself for a spirited disagreement at best and outright rejection at worst.

What he gets instead is a look that can probably best be described as manic glee.

"I think we broke her," Link whispers as they stand side by side in their office, watching with a bit of bewilderment as Stevie practically doubles over, clapping her hands in delight and laughing at them in a way that has Rhett vaguely thinking he should probably feel a little insulted or something.

"Are you serious?" Stevie finally manages to get out after she's taken a few breaths, trying to regain some composure. "That is _amazing_. Yes. Do it. Whatever you need, we'll make it happen. The world needs to see this. More importantly, _I_ need to see it."

Rhett runs a hand over his beard and frowns at the crypticness of that statement. "From the amount of snort-laughing that just happened, I'm gonna assume that's your personal and not professional opinion?"

Next to him, he hears Link make a faint sound in his throat like he's stifling a laugh, and Rhett hides his resulting smile behind another rub of his beard.

"First of all, if we have to classify that as anything it was a guffaw, not a snort," Stevie replies primly, "and second, it's definitely personal, but professional me is on board too - just with a few more reservations. You know there will be people who won't be happy about it," she points out, shifting to a more serious note as she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. "The whole 'you're not promoting family values' crowd. Are you guys okay with the possibility of losing that audience?"

Instinctively, Rhett looks over at Link and when they make eye contact, a whole unspoken conversation passes between them in two seconds flat.

"If they have that big of a problem with the idea of same sex relationships, then we don't want that audience anyway," Link answers, simple as that.

Stevie looks over at Rhett like she's waiting to see if he has anything to contribute to the topic - and to be fair he usually _always_ has something to contribute to any conversation, he'll admit - but this time he lets Link take the lead and keeps his mouth shut, instead taking a half-step closer to Link in a show of solidarity.

Link doesn't look at him, but Rhett can feel him subtly readjust his stance until the side of his shoe bumps up against Rhett's own. A little press of unspoken gratitude.

"Alright then," Stevie gives them both a single nod, pressing her lips together like she's trying not to maniacally beam all over again, "let's make it happen."


	2. Chapter 2

"You have Barbara's food, right? I've got extra bowls she can use, but we've got Jade on this special dental stuff for her teeth right now-"

"It's already in the car," Rhett confirms, tucking his phone against his shoulder and ear so he can free up both hands and cram a stack of t-shirts into his duffel bag.

"You should bring your white noise machine too," Link continues through the phone's speaker. "I know you don't sleep well when you're anywhere that isn't your own bed, and I don't wanna deal with you if you're gonna be crabby and exhausted all week."

"I resent that statement," Rhett says, following up the t-shirts with a handful of socks."But yeah, I'll bring the noise machine too. You need me to stop for anything on my way there?"

"No. Yes? No," Link flip-flops indecisively, making Rhett smile down at his bag as he tucks an extra belt inside.

"Do you have anything for us to eat for dinner?" He leans over his nightstand and fights to unplug the white noise machine next, making a face when the cord inevitably snags and tangles with a bunch of other random crap he's got plugged in back there.

In his ear, Link goes suspiciously quiet. "Shoot," he groans after a second, and Rhett can perfectly picture the way he's probably got his eyes squeezed shut right now, glasses pushed up so he can rub at the bridge of his nose. "Okay, can you get us food? Also I don't have any of that tea you like, so you'd better grab some 'a that too."

"Will do." Finally freeing its tangled cord, Rhett lets the noise machine drop into the top of his bag with a victorious plop. "Should be there in an hour or so. I'll text you when I'm leaving the grocery store."

"Sounds good. You ready for this, man?" Rhett can practically hear the grin in Link's voice. He's going for teasing, Rhett knows, but there's a pretty obvious dose of gleeful anticipation colouring his tone at the same time. Like a kid at Christmas.

"I don't know if anything could prepare me for living with you again," Rhett replies, mostly joking but with a shred of honesty tucked in there too. Sure they've shared hotel rooms and tour buses and camping tents over the last little while, but it's been a good twenty years since they've spent any real amount of time alone together in confined quarters. It's not that he's nervous about it - it's only Link after all - but there is a faint, buzzing kind of energy stirring in the pit of Rhett's stomach whenever he starts to think too hard about it; one he can't quite put a name to, so he does his best to ignore it instead. He's probably just anxious about disrupting his normal routine for the next week, he figures. Link must be rubbing off on him.

"Hey, I'm a freakin' _delight_ to live with," Link insists, pausing for effect before he tacks on, "as long as you follow my very specific set of house rules. There's thirty-eight of 'em." 

Rhett laughs, hoisting his duffel bag onto his shoulder and flicking the lights off as he heads out of the bedroom and down the hall. "Are they laminated and framed?"

"Of course," Link answers, playing into the joke without missing a beat. "What kind of chump do you take me for?"

* * *

Link answers the door wearing camo sweatpants and a healthy amount of salt-and-pepper stubble, looking like the very definition of weekend relaxation. His eyes seem to turn extra blue when they hit the afternoon sunshine and Rhett clears his throat, focusing his gaze somewhere around Link's left shoulder instead.

"Hey man."

"Hey, c'mon in." Link grins and immediately steps out of the way, holding the door open so Rhett can unload the small mountain of supplies currently balanced in his arms - clothing, food, and dog paraphernalia - onto the tiled floor of the entrance way.

Barbara trots in happily behind him, pausing to accept some head scratches and murmured baby-talk from Link before she takes off in search of her partner in crime.

"Thanks for that." Link straightens back up from his crouch after Barbara's wandered away, nodding at the canvas grocery bags full of food. "I'll unpack if you wanna take your stuff to the bedroom."

"Yeah," Rhett confirms, knowing full well that any attempt at arranging stuff in Link's kitchen is a fruitless battle. The guy's just gonna trail behind him and meticulously reorganize it all anyway. 

He kicks his shoes off and leaves them by the door, scooping up his duffel bag and heading for the guest room he normally stays in on the rare occasions when they're pulling all-nighters for work or he's had too much to drink.

"Uh, dude, where're you goin'?" Link's voice hits him after Rhett's taken his first few steps and when he stops to spin around, he sees that Link's got a grocery bag in each hand and confused frown on his face.

Rhett hesitates, eyeing Link like he might've had a temporary bout of insanity. "To...the bedroom?" he offers slowly as a small trickle of apprehension starts to invade the pit of his stomach. He _is_ staying in the guest room, right? Why wouldn't he be?

The grin he gets in reply is sharp, hovering somewhere between wicked and playful as Link shakes his head. "Wrong way, man." He gestures towards the stairs with one bag-laden arm. "My room's that way."

It takes a second for Rhett to clue in to what Link's trying to say, but once he does, the figurative tap cranks wide open and that slight trickle shifts into a roaring blast, dousing his insides with cold water.

Covering up any of his discomfort with humor - a classic McLaughlin move that's never failed him before - he tips his head back and groans at the ceiling dramatically. "Really, man? I gotta share a bed with you?"

Looking far too amused, Link shrugs his shoulders and points out, "This whole thing was your idea, I'm just tryin'a keep it accurate. If we're supposed to be a couple, we gotta sleep together." He ponders the wording of that for a moment then clarifies, "In the same bed. Not like _together_ together. Carnally. Still a 'no' on the sex tape-"

"Yeah, I got it," Rhett cuts him off, feeling his face go warm as he adjusts his grip on the duffel bag. Sure therapy's been helping him process a lot of his issues with embracing emotion, but there's no chance in hell he's about to try and unpack whatever odd, uneasy feelings are shifting restless in his stomach right now.

He must look as awkward as he feels because Link gives a slight chuckle as he starts to take the grocery bags into the kitchen, calling back to Rhett over his shoulder, "Betcha weren't expecting that, huh? Point to the Linkster!"

There's an edge of smugness in his voice that makes Rhett want to punch him a little, but mostly it just gives him the urge to smile, falling into that easy sort of banter that's always come so naturally to them.

With his neck still tipped back, he closes his eyes and replies in a serious monotone, "I have made a grave mistake."

Link's answering laugh is loud and bright, carrying all the way out from the kitchen, and something about the sound eases the gathering tension in Rhett's muscles, taking the edge off until the prospect of rooming with Link for the week doesn't seem quite so daunting anymore.

Rhett still kind of wishes he had one of those Amish bed boards though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your great responses to chapter 1!  
> For reference, Rhett talks about the Amish bed thing in one of my favourite GMMs, [How to Share a Hotel Bed](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hboberlYplY). He mentions it again in Ear Biscuits too, but I can't recall which one (probably their sleep experiment?)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bed sharing, anyone? :)

He sleeps about as well as expected. Which is to say, not great.

The glare of bright morning sunlight slanting across his face prompts Rhett to blink his eyes open and slowly take stock of his body (back about as achy as it always is, head foggy from lack of sleep) and his surroundings (unfamiliar but comfortable bed, the weight of another body - both familiar and not - pressed up against his hip). 

When he lets his head fall to the side, all that’s visible of said body is an inch or so of smooth, relaxed forehead leading into a wild mess of silver-streaked dark hair, the rest hidden away in a Link-sized bump under the duvet.

Rhett huffs and carefully reaches over, using one finger to gently tug the top of the duvet down a couple inches until Link’s nose is visible and Rhett can be sure he isn’t about to suffocate himself in his sleep. Honestly, the man sleeps with all the reckless abandon of a narcoleptic toddler.

He should close his eyes and try to get a bit more rest himself, Rhett thinks, but his eyes seem to have a different opinion on the matter and instead he finds himself studying the planes of Link's sleeping face, oddly unable to look away.

It's just that asleep, Link looks so young and at ease; the normal tension carried around his eyes and mouth noticeably absent, making the dark fan of his eyelashes and surprising fullness of his lips stand out all that much more. Like this, he could almost be a teenager again. It's easy to forget they're both in their 40's now.

God, where has the time gone?

It's a face Rhett's seen almost every single day of his life and he's watched it cycle through almost every single expression it could possibly display: laughing, crying, nervous, proud, fierce with anger or glowing with joy. But when was the last time he _really_ looked at Link?

He can't easily answer that question, Rhett realizes. So here, in this quiet, protected bubble of early-morning stillness, he lets himself examine how he feels about that.

 _Distressed_ is probably the best descriptor for the way his chest's gone tight and achy, like a closed fist cutting off the supply of oxygen to his lungs.

Link is so...well, there's no single word that can properly encompass all that is Link, but the guy deserves to be appreciated. Celebrated. Really _seen_.

He's stood by Rhett through so much, brought smiles to his face when it felt like the world was ending. Talked sense into him when he was being a thick-headed idiot. Made him laugh harder than he thought was humanly possible. He's an unwavering pillar in Rhett's life that was there long before nearly everybody else, and will still be there throughout so many other faces that'll come and go.

Something like that is rare, Rhett knows. Almost unheard of in this age of fleeting attention spans and disposable friendships, especially in L.A. of all places.

It's special, what they have. Something worth hanging onto. And in that moment, staring at the sleeping face of his best friend, Rhett vows to do more. To not let it slip through his fingers. To scoop up all the little pieces of strength and love and unconditional support that Link's handed him over the years and reflect it back to Link tenfold. It's the least he can do to convey just how much Link has shaped his life for the better.

The rest of his newly formed resolution is interrupted when Link suddenly lets out a long, sleepy exhale and murmurs, rough-voiced into his pillow, "Quit bein' a creeper."

His eyes are still closed, thank goodness, giving Rhett a moment to hide the way he flinches in surprise and will down the warm rush of embarrassment that's started to creep across the back of his neck.

"I'm not," Rhett automatically retorts as bleary blue eyes finally peek open to watch him from a distance that feels too close to be safe.

"You were staring." Link says it matter-of-factly. Not angry or curious, just an observation. Almost like he expected Rhett might do it. 

Link's face is so close, Rhett can see the slight indentation of a pillow line sweeping across his cheek, evidence of just how well he slept in contrast to Rhett's own restlessness. Something about the sight feels vulnerable, like he shouldn't be allowed to see this version of Link, but another stronger, larger part of it feels familiar, instantly transporting him back to the days of grade school sleepovers where they'd huddle in close, swapping whispered jokes and stories in the dark.

Rhett swallows down the nostalgic lump in his throat and kicks at Link's feet under the covers. "Was just trying to figure out how it is that you still manage to sleep exactly like you did when we were ten - dead to the world and droolin' all over the place."

Now it's Link's turn to argue, eyebrows pulling together as he insists, "Wasn't drooling," but he lifts one hand to the corner of his mouth anyway, double-checking subconsciously.

Rhett grins at the action, and as soon as Link realizes what he's done he's breaking into a smile too, laughing through a halfhearted, "Screw you, man."

He rolls from his side onto his back then, arms reaching overhead to stretch as he lets out an exceptionally loud yawn, and Rhett feels like he can breathe a little easier now that there's more distance between them.

Or at least he feels that way for approximately half a second until his eyes decide to dart down and he's faced with the visual of Link's shirt having ridden part way up, exposing a wide strip of bare stomach and slim, compact hips; dark happy trail leading down into the waistband of his navy blue sleep pants.

"When d'you wanna break out the cameras?" Link asks, oblivious to Rhett's hyper-focused stare. "Should we get any footage while we're still in bed or is that taking it too far? We do kinda need to show that we're sleeping in the same bed though," he carries on musing while Rhett tries to make his overly-dry tongue function in his mouth.

"We'll save that kind of stuff for later," he manages after too long of a pause, dragging his eyes back up to Link's face. "Too intimate for day one, I think. I can always just record a few seconds of you sleeping at some point. Add to the ol' Instagram saga. The Mythical Beasts'll love that."

Link makes a face and lets his arms drop down onto his stomach, thankfully tugging the edge of his shirt back into place while he's at it. "I hate to say that's a good idea..."

"Just say it, man." Rhett feels his lips quirk up teasingly. "Rhett, you are the smartest, handsomest purveyor of good ideas-" he starts off in an atrociously bad imitation of Link's voice.

"And so humble too," Link adds sarcastically.

"That too," he agrees before patting Link on the flank and carefully hauling himself upright, wincing a little when his spine protests. "Alright. We should get up soon, especially if you want to hit the gym before work."

"Nah, was thinkin' I'd skip today." Link scrubs his hands over his face, trying to wake himself up more before he leans over onto one elbow and plucks his glasses off the side table, sliding them into place. "If you don't mind, I thought I could film a bit of you while you do the whole morning stretch routine. You've talked about it a bunch, so I figured the Beasts would wanna see it. Especially if we can get Barbara in here doin' her thing."

From his perch on the edge of the bed, Rhett drags his fingers through his wild bed-head, considering. "That's...a really good idea, actually. No - don't say it," he warns when a big shit-eating grin starts to creep its way across Link's face.

"Oh Link," Link says in a high falsetto, "you are the smartest, handsomest purveyor-"

Rhett's pillow hits him square in the face, cutting off the rest of the sentence.

* * *

It's almost eerie how little things seem to change at first.

They've always carpooled together, eaten lunch together, spent evenings, weekends and even vacations in each other's company, so by the end of Day One, Rhett's surprised to find that nothing really feels all that different. The only notable exception is that now he follows Link into his house instead of dropping him at the curb.

"We're not doing enough, man." Link frowns, voicing what they're both thinking once they've polished off dinner that evening, Rhett packing leftovers into the fridge while Link tucks dirty cutlery into the dishwasher. "We've got some good content so far, but nothing that really plays into the whole 'relationship' part. We need to kick it up a couple notches. We're still too far in our comfort zones." 

"You're not wrong." Rhett shuts the fridge door then leans back against it, arms crossing over his chest as he watches Link play dishwasher Tetris, trying to arrange everything just right. "We just need to think of more couple-y things we could be doing together. Holding hands? Using pet names?"

Link snorts, slotting a plate into place. "I ain't holding your hand, you human sweat factory."

"Well I don't hear _you_ making any suggestions," Rhett shoots back, a little miffed. He can't help his hands, okay? It's _biology_. "Don't crap all over my ideas if you're not even gonna contribute anything."

Link closes up the dishwasher with what's bordering on a slam. "Fine," he says shortly, turning to wash his hands in the sink, his back a straight, tense line facing Rhett. "We can cuddle on the couch or something. Happy?"

"Delighted," Rhett deadpans.

He hears Link sigh and a moment later his shoulders droop in defeat, tension slowly ebbing out. "Sorry," he murmurs, drying his hands off before he turns to mirror Rhett, leaning back against the edge of the counter and crossing both arms, gaze directed down at his toes. "Just...it feels weird, man."

The frank honesty in his voice makes Rhett's chest contract with worry. "Weird how? If this is making you too uncomfortable we can scrap the whole idea. It's not too late-"

"No, it's not that. I just...I never thought we'd do this again, y'know? Living together." Link scratches his fingers through the top of his hair, mouth pulled down in a thoughtful expression. "It's kinda throwing me off, honestly. We're not in college anymore and I guess...I guess I just don't know how to do this as a grown-ass man. There's some really weird déjà-vu nostalgia crap goin' on in my head, man. Like, you have no idea." He huffs out what's supposed to be a laugh, the sound strained and self-deprecating, before he finally looks up at Rhett with a hopeless _what-can-you-do_ shrug of his shoulders.

"Hey, trust me, brother. I get it," Rhett tells him softly. "Waking up to you this morning..." No, nope, that feels like a dangerous path to continue down so Rhett cuts himself off and swallows thickly, instead closing with a lame offering of, "It's so weird." 

The corner of Link's mouth quirks up into a half-smile at the way Rhett fumbles. "'Least we're both in the same boat."

"The S.S. What the Hell Are We Doing," Rhett jokes in agreement, snapping the last few strings of tension between them as Link laughs fully, straightening up from his lean on the counter and stepping closer, curling one hand around Rhett's bicep in an easy, grateful squeeze as he brushes by, starting to head towards the living room.

The touch feels like it sears straight through Rhett's shirt, imprinting into his skin like a brand, and he tells himself that it's only relief that causes the tingling burn. He's just glad to see Link shift back into a happier mood.

"Movie and cuddling," Link decides when Rhett's body finally kicks into action and he follows along behind Link, pausing to hit the light switch and plunge the kitchen into darkness on his way out of the room. "But I get to pick what we watch 'cause you were kind of an asshole too."

A movie sounds like the perfect distraction from the phantom weight of warm fingers still clinging to his arm, so with a chuckle, Rhett answers, "Fair enough."

* * *

While Link stands in front of the TV scrolling undecidedly through Netflix titles, Rhett tries to work out an optimal position for himself on the couch. Luckily, the number of bodies in the Neal family dictates that they need a pretty large sitting area, so the soft, oversized sectional fits his long legs comfortably when he lowers his weight and stretches out, back propped against one end and feet up on the other. 

He's already got one of their hand-held video cameras ready to go, resting close by on the coffee table so either of them can easily reach over and snatch it up, recording at some point during their movie viewing.

Relaxing into the cushions, Rhett idly watches the back of Link's head as he hums and haws over options. His neck curves forward gently as he looks down at the TV remote, the slight bump of vertebrae just visible at the edge of his shirt collar, hiding beneath smooth, lightly tanned skin.

How warm is the skin there? Rhett can’t help but wonder. Would it smell like Link's aftershave or hold nothing but the clean, natural scent of Link himself? He'll have the chance to see for himself once they get to cuddling, he supposes, and doesn't _that_ thought make his palms sweat even worse than usual.

It would be so easy, though. Just tuck his nose in close and breathe deep, feel Link shiver at the touch 'cause Rhett would bet good money that he's ticklish there, and the nape is already such a sensitive, vulnerable place-

"-kay? Rhett?"

He's yanked out of the thought by Link's voice and when Rhett blinks himself out of his unfocused stare he finds Link standing right in front of him, eyebrows raised in question.

"Huh?"

Rolling his eyes, Link points a stern finger at him, warning, "Don't you dare fall asleep before we've filmed anything."

"Sorry." Rhett scrubs a hand over his face and gladly latches onto the excuse Link's given him. "Guess I'm more tired than I thought. Didn't sleep so great last night." That part's not a lie, at least.

"S'okay, man. So, how are we gonna do this thing?" Link gestures at the couch with a flailing wave of his hand. "I guess I just get on it?" He makes a face at his poor choice of wording - they both hear the unspoken _that's what she said_ joke, especially given the way Rhett's reclined so suggestively in front of him - and Rhett could swear it looks like Link's almost _blushing_. "Oh gosh, that didn't come out right. Um..."

With a laugh, Rhett takes pity on him, patting his stomach with one palm invitingly. "C'mere, Neal."

Link looks both grateful for the invitation and apprehensive about the whole situation when he shuffles up close to the side of the couch. Lifting one leg to balance a knee on the cushions, he swings himself up and over to straddle Rhett's thighs; a move that's unusually fluid given his usual lack of coordination. Then again, they have been in this situation before. Probably more than once, if Rhett were to stop and really think about it, but also just as recently as the pizza car shenanigans they'd taped for GMM only a few months back.

"Okay," Link says, talking mostly to himself if the way it's mumbled half under his breath is any indication. "Let me just..." He plants his palms on Rhett's chest for balance and Rhett can't hold back the way he breathes in sharply, whole body going frozen when Link's gaze suddenly flicks up and catches with his own. His lungs stop expanding. Eyes stop blinking. Brain stalls with nothing but whirring white noise like an overheating laptop.

"Did I...? Sorry," Link awkwardly apologizes, probably assuming he kneed Rhett in the gut or something, and actually that doesn't feel too far from the truth, Rhett thinks. A gut punch more in the metaphorical than physical sense.

"No, it's - you're okay," Rhett manages. His hands feel twitchy and unsettled, not sure if he should raise them up to steady Link by the hips or keep them down flat at his sides. All the other times they've laid together for various reasons, it's never felt quite like this.

They're still staring right at each other, neither saying a word, and maybe it's just Rhett but it feels...important. Momentous. Like something big and unnameable is brewing in the space between them, adding weight to the atmosphere until the growing pressure bears down on his chest. Makes it hard to breathe. It reminds him a little of summer humidity; the sticky, airless August days they'd spend together back home in North Carolina. 

But it's not just him.

He can see it in the way Link's mouth has gone slack. The way his fingers curl incrementally into the fabric of Rhett's shirt. The way his eyes shine a shade of blue that's so vivid, it shouldn't be real.

Rhett's afraid to move, to destroy whatever fragile moment they've unintentionally formed, but he's also dying to see how far he can push it, to find out what'll happen if he lets his hands do what they seem to want: come up to frame Link's sides, maybe slip under the bottom edge of his shirt until they hit hot, bare skin. Press his thumbs into the bones of Link's hips-

A sharp bark makes them both jolt, heads whipping around in the direction of the noise.

"Crap," Link breathes under his breath, scrambling off of Rhett and coming close to successfully kneeing him in some sensitive areas this time. "I gotta take Jade out. If she pees on the carpet again..."

"No, yeah." When he finally speaks, there's a roughness in Rhett's voice that surprises him. Clearing his throat, he adds, "Go ahead. Not gonna start the movie without you."

Link almost trips over himself when he finally manages to get his feet under him, pausing at the edge of the couch to shoot Rhett a long, undecipherable look before he shakes himself out of whatever he's thinking and goes off in search of the dog.

Alone, Rhett sucks in a huge breath and lets it out slow, trying to calm the weird, erratic beat of his pulse.

A touch on the arm is one thing, but he's got a sinking suspicion that no amount of movie-watching is going to help him forget whatever that was.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for extreme levels of cuteness. I'm so weak for big men who go soft over tiny dogs.

"Who's a good girl?" Rhett murmurs, breaking out the sweet, cooing voice he only ever reserves for dog cuddling time, sliding a palm down Jade's narrow little back as she yawns and burrows into his lap, curling up into a sleepy semi-circle. "You are, yeah you are. Cause you're so smart and pretty and such a good napper. Uh huh. Sleepin' like a champ. You know I'm obligated to say Barbara's the best, but that's in no way reflective on you, okay? And there's no shame in second place, no there isn't."

From the other room there's an echoing bang as the front door shuts loudly, and Jade's ears momentarily perk up before she lowers her chin back down to rest on Rhett's thigh, eyes slipping closed again.

"I think your daddy's home," Rhett tells her conversationally, "and he's still bein’ a big ol' grump from the sounds of it."

Link's bad mood had rolled in like storm clouds after lunch, a late-day headache coming on that'd left him getting snippier and snippier with each passing hour until most of the crew had started avoiding him outright, and those brave enough to engage him - namely only Rhett and Stevie - got nothing but tense one-word answers or aggravated grunts in response. He'd even avoided carpooling home with Rhett, opting to stay late on his own and simmer away in solitary anger, taking his frustrations out on his email inbox. 

Mostly amused and only mildly concerned, Rhett had willingly given Link his space. He's seen this enough times before to know it's nothing some Advil and a good night's sleep won't fix, but try telling that to a cranky, stubborn Link.

Sure enough, a few minutes later Link comes stomping into the living room, freezing at the sight of Rhett sprawled across the couch with Barbara asleep at his feet and Jade passed out in his lap.

He blinks, taking in the scene with widened eyes and blank surprise written on his face, but the look only lasts a fraction of a second before he schools his expression, determined to stay rooted in his foul mood. His face closes back up, jaw tightening as he peels off his cardigan and throws it over a nearby chair.

"Hey," Rhett says neutrally, waiting for the inevitable blow-up.

Link looks from Rhett to the coffee table and back again, eyes hardening when he spots the can of La Croix poised innocently on the end of the table. "You plan on using a coaster?" he asks bluntly. No greeting, no pleasantries, just a sharp-edged question.

Rhett grins lazily at him, scratching Jade behind the ear. Sometimes he just can't resist poking the bear. “Nope.”

Link breathes loudly through his nose, yanking his glasses off to rub at both eyes. "You're wearin' on my last nerve, man," he warns, using one arm of the glasses to point accusingly at Rhett before he slips them back onto his face.

"Should we be filming this? I feel like we should be filming this." Rhett rubs at the side of his beard thoughtfully. "Really gets across that whole 'we don't work as a couple' vibe we're aimin' for."

The look Link gives him could curdle milk. "You stick a camera in my face right now and all you're gonna get is footage of me puttin' your head through the coffee table."

It's an empty threat - Link won't get physical with him - but his mouth tends to run away from him when he's angry. It's gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion, responsible for petty fights over anything from parking spaces to check out lines at the grocery store, but Rhett considers himself pretty immune to it at this point. And besides, even at Link's worst, even though he knows Rhett well enough that he could twist around all sorts of deep insecurities and private confessions and throw them back at Rhett like kill shots to the heart, Link never cuts him hard enough to bleed.

"Aw, someone’s in a bad mood. C’mere, honey." Rhett pats the empty cushion beside him, smiling pleasantly. It's a risk to keep pushing Link's buttons when he's like this, but Rhett's been playing this game for the better part of thirty-five years. He likes to think of himself as a bit of a Link de-escalation expert by now.

As anticipated, Link scowls at him. "Don’t patronize me."

"I’m not," Rhett promises, holding both hands up innocently. "Just get over here, buddyroll. I wanna help you."

Still eyeing Rhett like this might be some kind of elaborate practical joke in the making, Link reluctantly steps closer, pausing to slide a coaster under the offending can of La Croix before he steps around the coffee table and sits down stiffly at Rhett's side.

As soon as Link's butt makes contact with the cushions, Rhett scoops Jade up from his lap, depositing her into Link's own.

"Pet," Rhett instructs.

Link does, smoothing his hand gently down her back despite the scowl still darkening his features. That's fine. Rhett's got more up his sleeve.

This time he leans forward, snatching up his half-finished La Croix.

"Drink." He holds it out to Link, looking at him expectantly.

"Stop tryin'a baby me," Link mutters, but he accepts the can anyway, head tilting back until his Adam's apple's on stark display as he swallows a few mouthfuls.

Rhett doesn't want to push _too_ hard, so he lets Link linger at that stage for a while, turning his attention back to the TV that's been playing forgotten in the background. The show he'd been watching ended a good ten minutes ago and it's midway through a Seinfeld re-run right now so Rhett grabs the remote, punching the volume up until it's at a level that's easy to hear but won't aggravate Link's headache.

He tries to focus on the episode - it's a good one, the New York City Marathon - but the dialogue barely even registers in Rhett's brain. The show's really more of an excuse anyway; a cover that lets him subtly keep tabs on Link from the corner of his eye, noting the way his shoulders gradually begin to relax with each stroke he gives Jade. How the tight line of his mouth slackens a little more with each sip of Rhett's drink.

Only when Link's polished off the rest of the La Croix and Jade's soundly asleep in his lap, Rhett implements the last phase of his plan.

"Hey, turn a little," he says, patting Link on the hip.

Link huffs faintly in response, but there are no verbal complaints this time when he shifts his weight around until he's sitting at an angle, back facing Rhett and one leg pulled up under him on the couch.

Rhett shuffles himself into the same kind of sideways position then brings both palms down heavily onto the tops of Link's shoulders, starting in close to his neck so his thumbs are brushing Link's nape.

The first hard squeeze of his fingers has Link making a noise somewhere in between a scoff and a laugh. "Seriously, man?" he asks, trying to look back over his shoulder at Rhett.

"Hey," Rhett scolds, briefly moving one hand to the side of Link's jaw so he can physically turn Link's head back into place. "No moving. Just trust me, okay?"

"Whatever," Link mutters, but Rhett catches the way his mouth curls slightly at the corner, embarrassed yet pleased to have Rhett doting on him like this. It's pretty damn cute. Objectively speaking, of course. Anyone with eyes and half a brain would be thinking the same thing right now, Rhett tells himself. Plenty of male best friends in their 40's consider the other to be cute without it being weird, right? He's sure that's a thing.

Pushing the thought aside, he focuses on applying the right amount of pressure to the broad line of Link's shoulders; knotted, tense muscles relaxing bit by bit the more his fingers dig in hard, and it's not long until Link's head is lolling forward, breaths coming out slow and measured.

"Okay," Link groans after a minute, voice sluggish with fatigue and body slowly melting to putty under Rhett’s hands. "If we could add the massages to our regular friendship policy, I’d be more than okay with that."

Rhett laughs and digs his thumbs in deeper. It's clear all the fight's finally drained out of Link and Rhett allows himself a moment of smug satisfaction over the fact. Another win for his de-escalation skills. Man, he could teach a class or something.

Neither of them talk much after that and the more Rhett focuses on the steady, repetitive movement of his hands, the more it starts to feel almost meditative for the both of them. From the warm heaviness in his limbs Rhett can tell he's finally gonna sleep well tonight, and Link looks half asleep already; would probably be swaying in place if it weren't for Rhett's hands on him. 

He blames that easy, relaxed feeling for the way he starts to lean forward, chin coming to hook over Link's shoulder and chest brushing Link's back. When he tilts his head, his lips almost touch Link’s ear, beard rough against the curve of Link's neck when he asks in a low voice, "Better?"

The lack of space between them makes it obvious when a full-bodied shiver passes through Link, his next breath coming out uneven as he slowly leans his weight back into Rhett and breathes out a quiet, "Yeah."

It's too difficult of a position to keep massaging in, so Rhett lowers his hands from Link's shoulders, letting gravity do its job as they slide down biceps and forearms until they meet at Link's middle and he hooks his own forearms around Link's stomach, gently pulling him in a little further.

They're not the kind of friends who never hug, but they're also not the type to go seeking physical comfort from each other. At least they hadn't been until now. Not to mention, Rhett thinks, this probably veers way more into cuddle territory than a simple hug. The way their bodies have slotted together feels pretty similar to some of those cuddle positions they'd been taught a few seasons back on GMM.

Rhett doesn't know how long they stay like that - leaning into each other and just existing, watching the TV but not _really_ watching it, just letting their minds drift - but it's long enough for Jade to vacate Link's lap in search of more exciting scenery. Long enough for Rhett's eyelids to start drooping. Long enough for Link to let the full weight of his head rest back on Rhett's shoulder like a pillow. Long enough for Rhett to tuck his nose into the warm space at the side of Link's neck and hide a yawn.

"Should go to bed," Link murmurs after about Rhett's fourth yawn. "Your back's gonna hate you if you fall asleep here."

"'M surprised you're even awake," Rhett tells him, reluctant to move for reasons that are only half related to how sleepy he feels.

"I'm hangin' on by a thread, man." Link lets out his own yawn then, pressing back into Rhett even harder when he arches to stretch out the stiffness in his spine.

Rhett soaks up the last of the feeling before they slowly uncurl from each other and stumble to their feet, turning off the TV and setting about closing up the house for the night.

"Hey." Link catches him by the arm on Rhett's way into the kitchen, about to toss the empty La Croix can in the recycling bin. "Thanks, Rhett." The sincerity on his face makes something in Rhett's chest bloom with heat; warm and tender.

Rhett smiles at him, entirely honest when he replies, "Anytime, buddy."


	5. Chapter 5

True to his suspicions, Rhett sleeps like the dead.

Well, to be fair he always sleeps like the literal dead whenever he's sharing a bed with anyone who isn't his wife - stiff and awkward on his back with hands clasped over his stomach - but this time it's more in the figurative sense. He sleeps _well_ , is what he's getting at. Surprisingly well.

It takes a long time to pull himself back to consciousness when his alarm starts blaring. It's set earlier than normal this morning to account for the appointment he's got with his physical therapist and Rhett groans rough and disgruntled like a bear when he reaches one arm out to blindly slap at the screen of his phone, eyes shut against the brightness of the rising sun.

"Make it stop," Link's voice grumbles at him from somewhere nearby, sounding hoarse with sleep.

"'M tryin'." When Rhett finally manages to silence the alarm he lets out a sigh of relief, burrowing back into place under the blankets. It's so warm. Ten more minutes, then he'll get up.

Legs twine with his under the covers and there's an arm hooked loosely over his side. The weight feels nice. Snug and cozy.

Rhett lets out a big, yawning breath then tucks his chin down, nose hitting a fluffy mess of hair. Tickles. Smells good though, so he stays put.

The main source of the heat's pressed right up tight to his chest, so he slings one arm over it. Draws it in closer.

The heat sighs, sleepy and content, and breath hits Rhett's chest in a puff that feels warm on his skin even through the barrier of his t-shirt. 

He hums in response, fighting the urge to yawn again as he slowly blinks his eyes open.

Immediately all he sees is hair. Familiar soft, dark hair with shots of grey streaked through the front. Huh. Link must've gone full octopus on him sometime through the night. Rhett should've known it was coming, he supposes. The fact that Link _hadn't_ gravitated straight to his side for any of the last three nights is the real anomaly here.

"Move, man," he mumbles, nudging his shoulder into Link halfheartedly. 

From where his face is pressed almost directly into Rhett's armpit, Link grumbles something that only vaguely sounds like human words.

Rhett nudges at him again. "What?"

Obviously reluctant to be awake at all, Link separates his face from Rhett's chest and squints up at him from bleary, half-closed eyes. "I said," he repeats slowly, "I can't move. You've kinda got me pinned down here, Rhett."

Oh.

Well.

Speechless, Rhett just stares at him dumbly as his brain fizzles with static, trying to make all the evidence compute.

His nose pressed to the top of Link's head, just moments ago. His arm around Link's waist. His right thigh thrown over Link's left. Their torsos flush beneath the blankets.

How the hell had that happened?

Embarrassment hits him hard and Rhett retracts his arm like Link's on fire, inching his whole upper half backwards until there's a visible gap between their bodies. He nearly forgets about his feet - it'd felt oddly natural to let them migrate over onto Link's side of the mattress, to let one of his legs slip in between Link's own - so he yanks them back too, accidentally hitting Link hard in the ankle with his heel in his haste to move away.

"Sorry," he mutters. Gosh, he feels hot all over. Too big and clumsy for his own body. It's been a long time since he's felt this awkward around anyone, let alone Link.

Link, for his part, seems more fascinated than anything else.

"You were actually cuddling me," he says, eyebrows arching in surprise. "Like, honest-to-goodness willingly initiating physical contact. Who are you and what've you done with Rhett?"

"Ha ha," Rhett says flatly, ignoring the way his face goes even warmer at Link's ribbing. "I was asleep, Neal. Can't help what I do when I'm asleep."

"No, for real. I'm gonna need you to prove you're not a pod person." Link grins and shimmies into a more comfortable position. His eyes are _so_ blue against the stark white background of his pillowcase, it's...really something. "Tell me something only the _real_ Rhett would know."

Rhett rolls his eyes. "Really?"

The look on Link's face says _indulge me_ , so he sighs, wracking his brain for an appropriate story.

"...Okay. Remember that time when we were eleven and your mom had given us money to go out to the store and pick up butter? Somehow we lost the cash - fell outta your pocket, or something - so we ended up biking all the way across town to my house to grab some of the money I'd made mowing lawns that summer. Of course it was all in change, so biking back to the store all you could hear was it rattlin' around in our pockets. Felt like it weighed about twenty pounds."

Link lets out a brief, single-note laugh, eyes going all fond and distant at the memory. "Ah, yeah. I just about puked, man. I was so upset. Couldn't believe I'd just lost the money like that. "

"I remember. I think you cried a little," Rhett teases him, feeling a reminiscent smile start to spread across his own face. "I had to pinky swear to you that I'd never tell another soul, you were so worried Mama Sue'd find out and never trust you with anything important again."

"Oh, I cried _a lot,_ " Link corrects him, knocking his knee against Rhett's for emphasis. "Not to mention we were gone for like forty minutes when it shoulda taken us fifteen. I'm sure she knew something was up, but we both came back in one piece and had the butter, so she didn't say a word."

"Yeah." Rhett smiles, getting lost in the memory as he remembers the way Link had freaked out, how he'd literally had to take Link by the shoulders and stare him in the eyes, promising with every ounce of eleven-year old gravity he'd possessed that they'd be fine; they'd make it right. And Link had trusted him so implicitly, just like he'd trusted that moving to California was a good idea. Just like he still trusts Rhett on everything from movie recommendations to the best barbecue sauce to buy. It's kind of heady, knowing someone's got that much faith in you.

"By the way," Rhett adds thoughtfully after a minute, "you still owe me ten bucks for that."

Link barks out a short, incredulous laugh. "What?! How'd you get to _ten bucks_? It was like two freaking dollars, man!"

Rhett shrugs. "Inflation," he says simply.

"Inflation," Link repeats, grinning like crazy in that way that makes Rhett helpless to do anything but grin back till his own face hurts. "I'll inflate - oh crap, what time is it? You better get up, man."

"Ah, shoot." Rhett got sucked so deep down the rabbit hole, so distracted by reminiscing and joking and the image of just how _nice_ Link looks lying there with his cheek pressed into his pillow, all big grins and happy eyes, he'd completely forgotten about the time. 

With a groan, he pushes himself out of bed and hightails it to the bathroom. Hopefully if he skips breakfast he'll still make it to his appointment on time.

He showers as fast as humanly possible, throws on the first clean sweater and pair of jeans he can find, then flies down the stairs like a pack of wolves are hot on his heels.

"Wallet, wallet..." Rhett murmurs, patting down his pockets distractedly as he strides into the kitchen, quickly double-checking the time on his phone before it gets shoved into a pocket as well.

He's not quite as bad off as he'd originally thought, at least. If he lucks out with a couple of well-timed green lights, he can probably just sneak into his appointment under the wire and have it still count as 'on time'.

"Hey," Link calls from where he's seated on one of the bar stools at the kitchen island, pyjama-clad and still about thirty percent asleep from the looks of it, "take this with you."

When Rhett looks over, there's an insulated travel mug perched on the corner of the island that he hadn't noticed before; a familiar paper tag dangling from the edge of the mug by a thin white string.

Link made him tea.

His _favourite_ tea.

"You're a saint," Rhett tells him emphatically, immediately circling back around so he can pick up the drink.

He pulls a drive-by when he reaches the edge of the island, feet barely pausing as he swoops in and kisses Link's temple, grabbing the travel mug off the countertop and making sure he's got his keys on him-

Wait.

_He kissed Link._

"Uh." Rhett comes to a dead stop, staring at a Link who's staring straight back at him, eyes huge and cheeks getting pinker by the second.

It's...it must be muscle memory, Rhett rationalizes. He’s so used to doing the same kind of thing to Jessie or the boys when he's on his way out the door in the morning. And Link had made him tea, is sitting there so comfortably, looking all warm and content and homey, taking bites of his usual morning smoothie with a damn _spoon_ , like the endearing weirdo he is...

"You're gonna be late," Link prompts after a second. His tone is carefully, deliberately neutral, but there’s an undercurrent of hoarseness that still shines through, roughening the edges.

"Right." The words spur Rhett back into action and suddenly he's grateful for the excuse of running late, letting him escape out the door in a hurry with little more than a rushed jumble of, "Thanks - sorry - bye."

It takes half the drive to his physio appointment before his heart stops hammering, and every time Rhett brings the travel mug up to his mouth, the tea Link made him tastes better than he remembers.

He's not sure what to think about that.

Actually, no, Rhett mentally corrects himself. He's getting more and more certain of what it all means, if he's honest. The easy touches. The prolonged eye contact. The way the littlest things about Link - how he smiles at Jade when he thinks no one's looking, that thing his face does when tomatoes show up in his food - have started to captivate Rhett, like he's seeing Link in a whole new light.

He might've been sticking his head in the sand and willfully ignoring it, but visible or not, the evidence has been stacking up for a while now. He can’t play dumb about this any longer; he’s passed the point of return.

So, Rhett thinks, now the problem is: what’s he going to do about it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, plot. Nice of you to finally join us :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BUCKLE UP, FRIENDS

Nothing.

He decides to do nothing.

It's not a decision made out of cowardice, Rhett tells himself. It's just logic. Practicality. He's married. Link's married. They're happy. They have established lives and families and responsibilities. And besides, even if he did say something - _do_ something - who's to say Link would feel the same? There's too many risks, too many unknowns. It's better to just let things keep going the way they've always been. No need to veer from the path after 35 years of traveling down the same steady, constant road.

It's never been in his nature to choose monotony over adventure, but maybe it's time he gave it a try. He could learn to like it, probably.

Not to mention, even if he were to push all of those concerns aside, there's one other glaringly obvious fact for Rhett to consider: he's never even _looked_ at another man before. He's entirely certain he's not gay. Mostly sure he's not bisexual. No other guy has made him feel anything remotely close to the way it feels when Link smiles at him. Cracks up at Rhett's jokes with one of those bright, high-pitched laughs of pure delight. Falls asleep against Rhett's shoulder on everything from planes to buses to regular old car rides.

It's just Link. Only Link.

So maybe he's just...confused. Maybe age and therapy and the constant contact of working together every day for so many years has worn him down. Softened his edges. Made it easier to access the well of feelings tucked away in his chest that's got Link's name on it, so now his brain's having a hard time deciphering it all; struggling to fit platonic labels onto a love that's run so deep for so long. So he's misinterpreting it, thinking it's romantic when really, he's just feeling the full depth and extent of their friendship for the very first time.

Because it's not like he wants to hold Link's hand or anything. Not like he catches himself almost reaching out to brush the hair off Link's forehead when a few wayward strands fall loose. Not like he thinks about pressing his mouth to the slope of Link's shoulder. The knob of his wrist. The fine, dark trail of hair at the base of his stomach, looking up the length of Link's body to catch sight of blue, blue eyes and hear him inhale sharp-

It's not like that at all.

So: nothing. That's his game plan. They've only got two days of filming left before life returns to normal, so Rhett's just going to bide his time. As soon as he's back in his own house, surrounded by his kids and wife, he'll probably realize this was all some weird trick of his mind, anyway. A temporary lapse in judgement brought on by the odd little isolated bubble he and Link have been living in over the past few days. And when he thinks about it like that, it's definitely best that he says nothing. Saves him and Link both from inevitable embarrassment later on. No one wants to hear a blurted 'I love you' only to have it retracted afterwards. No one wants the memory of a single, awkward, spur-of-the-moment kiss hanging over their head like an ever-present shame cloud, tainting the rest of their friendship from that point forward.

Behind him, there's a soft _whoosh_ as the patio door slides open and shut; Link appearing at the side of Rhett's lounge chair a moment later.

"Whatcha thinking about? You've got a thousand yard stare goin' on there." He hands Rhett a beer and Rhett accepts it with a murmured thanks, feeling his lips quirk into a smile when he notices that Link only brought the one. They both know he'll only want one sip out of curiosity and then end up declaring it gross. Less waste this way.

"Everything and nothing," Rhett answers vaguely, watching Link lower himself down into the empty chair at his side before he twists the top off the bottle and lifts it to his mouth. It goes down nice - cold and crisp but with a satisfying edge that's both rich and a little bit bitter. It's an acquired taste, for sure. Link's gonna hate it.

Rhett lets his elbow slide off the armrest, arm falling into the empty space between their chairs as he holds out the bottle for Link.

"Deep stuff," Link jokes, leaning sideways to meet Rhett half way. Their fingers brush when Link gets a hold of the bottle and his skin feels burning hot in contrast to the chilled glass. For a second, Rhett wonders if it'd burn just as much if those fingers were to press into the bare skin of his back instead. 

He settles his head against the back of his chair and swallows through the sudden dryness in his throat, looking up at the sky. It's pink tonight; a watercolour of blues and blush and lavender as the sun steadily dips below the horizon. Pretty. But there's another sight he doesn't want to miss, so Rhett lets his neck loll to the side to watch when Link finally takes a sip of the beer.

Just like he knew would happen, Link swallows, smacks his lips together, then makes an 'ergh' face and immediately passes the bottle across to Rhett.

Rhett can't help the little snort-laugh he lets out, happy to take the bottle back and nurse the rest of its contents, holding it loose in one hand with the cool glass bottom balanced against his stomach. 

Surprisingly, Link doesn't voice his critique of the drink - just slouches down in his chair and lazily crosses his ankles - so they both stay like that for a while, content to let the silence stretch as the sun sets to the soundtrack of Los Angeles in the evening: chirping birds and distant traffic and the low hum of the central air unit tucked around the corner of the house.

"This is nice," Link eventually comments, breaking the quiet once the sky's gone from pink to a steadily-darkening velvet blue.

"Mm," Rhett hums in agreement. It has been nice. With a business to run and houses full of kids, it's not often they get any amount of downtime like this. The phrase 'peace and quiet' has almost started to take on a dream-like quality; something they aspire to reach but rarely achieve.

"Feels like we barely recorded anything today, though," Link adds, scratching at the growing stubble on his cheek with a frown.

Rhett unconsciously mirrors the frown with one of his own, trying to think back through his mental catalogue of their day. "We recorded at lunch," he points out after a few seconds of consideration, "when I ate all the olives out of your salad."

"And I thank you for your service," Link flashes him a grin, "but that was what, ten minutes of video? And that's before editing cuts it down." 

"Okay," Rhett concedes with a slight nod of his head. "So what do you suggest?"

Apparently he already had a plan, because the words are barely out of Rhett's mouth before Link's getting up from his chair, closing the gap between them and putting one knee down on the edge of Rhett's lounger.

"Scooch," he instructs, hovering over Rhett and waiting for him to move.

"What?" Rhett shifts over on instinct, creating about a half a foot of space that Link proceeds to wedge himself into. "Ow - Link -" The guy's all sharp elbows and knees as he works to settle himself down at Rhett's side, and Rhett takes one of those elbows to the kidney with a grunt, the crown of Link's head coming precariously close to smashing him in the nose not two seconds later. "What the hell?"

"We didn't get enough footage," Link repeats. "So I'm gonna make more now. Gimme your phone."

"You couldn't have asked for it before you started climbing all over me?" Rhett complains, trying to hoist his hips up under the added weight of Link so he can slide his phone out of his front pocket.

Link grabs it from his hand and finally - thank god - stops squirming once he's in a position he's deemed comfortable. He's on his side curled slightly into Rhett - or rather _onto_ Rhett, their bodies plastered together from waist to ankle with one of Link's shoulders resting directly on top of Rhett's, digging in in a way that Rhett knows is going to make his whole arm go numb about ten minutes from now.

While Rhett tries to keep his nose clear of the hazardous obstacle that is Link's head, Link pulls up the video recorder on Rhett's phone, taking a few seconds to play around with different angles, trying to centre them both in the frame before he taps the record button.

"Hey y'all," he says to the camera, flashing an open-mouthed smile that's all charm. "So it's the end of day five. Eight fortyyyy...five. Ish. In the evening. Wanna tell 'em what we're doing, Rhett?"

Link tilts the phone to one side, getting a clear shot of Rhett's face rather than the 75% ear and beard he'd been documenting before.

Rhett, stone-faced and even-voiced, replies into the camera, "Advanced microphysics."

Link makes an exasperated 'you see what I have to deal with?' face at their future audience, issuing a warning to Rhett of, "Don't forget, I've got some very pointy parts in close proximity to some of your very hittable areas."

"Pretty sure you've already given me kidney damage, actually," Rhett grimaces. He's playing it up for the camera, sure, but the truth remains: Link is bony as hell. Combine that with his natural clumsiness and it's like a bruise-inducing disaster waiting to happen.

Unconcerned, Link shrugs. "That's what you've got two of 'em for. Backup."

"Oh gosh," Rhett chuckles, accidentally jostling Link with the way his chest shakes, but Link just grins one of those sharp, teasing grins and tucks himself further into Rhett's side, a slight shiver passing through him.

"Cold or somethin'?" With a bit of creative wriggling, Rhett manages to loosen his pinned shoulder and lift that arm, letting it follow the curve of Link's back as he hugs him closer into his side, hand coming to rest on Link's exposed upper arm just below the edge of his shirt sleeve. Sure enough there are goosebumps there, so Rhett rubs his palm over the spot, warming him up.

"Maybe," Link hedges, craning his neck to look at Rhett. "I think as a good boyfriend you should give me your jacket."

Rhett glances down at his chest in a quick double-check, as if his plain grey t-shirt might've magically transformed while he wasn't paying attention. "I'm not wearing a jacket."

"I meant like, metaphorically." Link nudges his glasses up before he goes on, articulating with the hand that isn't holding Rhett's phone, "You know how they do it in the movies and stuff. Your significant other is cold, you gotta do something about it."

Rhett's eyebrows fly up. "I don't have to _do_ anything. If you're cold you should've brought a sweater out with you. Or you can walk the five steps it takes to go back inside and get one."

"But that defeats the whole purpose!" Link argues. "You've gotta give me _your_ clothes. It's an act of affection. So affection me, dang it."

Rhett laughs, amused by the way Link's getting all riled up. It's going to make for good content too - getting the fans engaged online with stories and debates over what is and isn't acceptable clothes-sharing etiquette in relationships. He has to hand it to Link, it was a good idea to break out the camera. For all his goofy, child-like exterior, the guy's a damn smart creative partner.

There's a compliment to that effect sitting on the tip of his tongue, wanting to escape, but Rhett swallows it down. It doesn't fit the bickering vibe of their video, so he'll tuck it away for later and tell Link once the record button's off.

"Doesn't the arm rub count for something? I made an effort, man!" he says instead, switching his flat palm for the tips of his fingers and slowly inching them towards Link's armpit.

Link catches on quick, clamping his arm down tight against his ribs and trying to reel back, repeating an increasingly hysterical, laugh-filled mantra of, "No, no, no, no, _no!_ " as Rhett digs his fingers in, tickling.

"Watch - jeez." Grinning, Rhett manages to catch his phone when Link seems to forget he's even holding it, too busy flailing around like a fish on land as he succumbs to a round of pealing, high-pitched laughter.

Taking mercy on him for both their sakes, Rhett pulls his hand back and opts for securing it around Link's waist instead, half worried Link's going to roll straight off the chair at the rate he's going.

"Ahh, gosh." Link lets out a gusty sigh as he catches his breath, giddiness slowly ebbing out of him as he starts to come down from his high, relaxing all of his weight into Rhett's arm and letting Rhett do most of the work of holding him steady. "That's fighting dirty, man."

His face has gone all flushed from laughter, eyes shining with humor-induced tears and his hair kind of resembles a porcupine with the way it's managed to go all fluffed up on one side. He should look ridiculous, and yet...

Rhett instinctively tightens the arm around him and arches one eyebrow, replying in a low murmur, "When have you ever known me to fight fair?"

It comes out sounding way more flirtatious than he'd intended and Link seems to realize it too, his mouth dropping open to respond but no words coming out. Instead he just kind of _looks_ at Rhett, and there's something in his expression, an intensity and heavy sense of significance that immediately triggers a memory in the forefront of Rhett's mind, bringing him back to that moment on the couch when an attempt at cuddling had evolved into...something else. Something bigger. Something that'd left him shaky and breathless and confused.

He may not be confused anymore, but his lungs still feel tight and his hands are just as unsteady when he finally presses his thumb to the small red circle on his phone screen, stopping the recording and letting the phone land where it may on his lap because he doesn't want to spare the couple of seconds it'd take to glance down.

He can't look away from Link. Not now.

When Link swallows, it's audible. Eyes still searching Rhett's face and voice unusually rough, he answers with a raw and painful-sounding honesty, "Nothing about you is fair."

In an instant, everything comes to an abrupt halt. Like someone's hit a giant cosmic pause button, the universe seems to collectively hold its breath around Rhett as the confession sinks into him like magma; thick and heavy and alarmingly hot.

"Link..." It comes out cracked; a hundred different competing emotions wrapped up in that one little word as Rhett's mouth goes dry, heart lurching upwards to lodge tight in the back of his throat.

The hand he's got on Link's waist slips, finds bare skin beneath the edge of his t-shirt and Link shudders at the touch, lips parting to breathe heavy through his mouth, eyes electric blue with big, blown pupils.

A loaded moment of silence passes. They're hovering on a precipice and Rhett knows it, but working up the courage to take the leap to the other side feels so damn daunting. He's not sure if he's strong enough.

"I ain't gonna stop you," Link tells him quietly, offering bravery where Rhett can't, the only hint of his own nervousness given away by the slight tremor in his voice, the way his accent starts to come out just a little bit thicker like back when they were kids, "if...if you wanted-"

He doesn't need to say anything else. Rhett's already in motion, cupping the back of Link's neck, dipping his head down and catching Link's lips with his own.

It's so messed up.

It's so messed up because it doesn't _feel_ messed up and it should. He's kissing _Link_. His best friend. A man. A married man, when Rhett's a married man himself.

There's guilt there, yes, but it's easy to push aside. Rhett's not sure what that says about him as a person.

He has a wife and he loves her, but Link...Link is Link. So intertwined into the very essence of who Rhett is, he can't even fathom a life where there's no '& Link' standing shoulder to shoulder with him. So the fact is, Rhett's always gonna choose him. It's just as much of a natural, autonomous function as the beat of his heart, the way his lungs pull in air. He couldn't stop it if he tried. 

Link's mouth is warm against his, soft from the chapstick he always keeps in his pocket but masculine in a way that's new and entirely foreign to Rhett; the way the stubble on his face catches against Rhett's beard, how he kisses back with assertive force and no air of caution or delicacy.

Hands find the back of Rhett's head, fingers sinking into his hair when Link's body twists, abandoning Rhett's side in favour of crawling directly on top of him, weight settling heavy on the tops of Rhett's thighs as he urges the kiss to go deeper, licking into Rhett's mouth.

Rhett groans into it, overwhelmed by the heat and the weight and the wet slide of Link's tongue against his own.

" _God_ \- Link," he murmurs when they finally pull apart to breathe, foreheads pressed together and sharing the same warm, panting air between mouths that're only separated an inch. "We need to..." Rhett swallows, momentarily losing his train of thought when his eyes dip down, seeing the way Link's bottom lip has gone all pink and slick with spit, "we should talk about this."

The fingers in Rhett's hair curl to scratch at his scalp, coaxing a noise out of him that he's never made before in his life - an embarrassing mixture of a whine and a growl that comes from somewhere deep in the back of his throat.

Link's answering smile is hovering somewhere between unabashedly fond and big, shit-eating grin, pleased at having evoked such a visceral response, but it's a look that’s gone just as fast as it appears, replaced by a more solemn expression when his mouth curves downward and he says, "I know. I know we should...” his hands slip from Rhett’s hair and Rhett tries not to mourn the loss, “but can it not be tonight?"

Rhett's never been good at denying Link anything and it's not like this is a conversation he's eager to hash out either, so he nods. Loops his arms around Link's back and forces out a rough, "Yeah. Not tonight. "

He can feel Link let out a relieved puff of breath as he lays his head down on Rhett's chest, ear over his heart. And even though they don't kiss again, it feels just as intimate. Just as important.

Rhett closes his eyes and soaks it all in while he still can.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be my favourite chapter, so I hope you enjoy!! Hope you're all staying safe and in good spirits during all this craziness <3

There's an elephant in the room. It weighs about two tons and feels like it's sitting directly on top of Rhett's chest whenever he looks at Link.

There's no good time to have the conversation they need to have. Early morning doesn't leave them enough time to really get into it, and if he's honest, Rhett's come to cherish those few minutes they spend lazing in bed before the alarm goes off, sleepy and quiet and tentatively brushing arms or legs as they lay side by side. There's almost a magical quality to that time. Something special. He doesn't want to sully it with stark realities and painful conclusions.

Neither of them even _consider_ bringing it up at work. The crew's great at giving them space when they ask for it, but it still feels too risky. Too many eyes and ears and moving bodies to guarantee they'll get the privacy they need.

Over dinner would leave them both too on edge to eat, pushing food around on plates with appetites lost to the cramping anxieties in their stomachs. And Rhett is _always_ hungry, looks forward to every breakfast, lunch and dinner with an anticipation that's probably better suited to a voracious growth-spurting teenager than a forty-two year old man, so the idea of needlessly spoiling a meal feels almost sacrilegious to him. Not gonna happen.

So by natural, unspoken agreement they sit on it until that evening. Until the elephant's gotten too damn big and Rhett's gotta say something before he can't breathe anymore. 

He’s always prided himself on having a good poker face, but now it seems to have abandoned him entirely, and when he starts visibly fidgeting on the sofa - crossing and uncrossing legs, tapping fingers against the arm rest, scratching imaginary itches on his neck and arms - Link sighs, shifting sideways to face him.

"I guess we're doin' this then." His tone is resigned. Tired before the conversation's even begun.

Rhett frowns, looking down at his jean-covered legs because it's an easier shade of blue to deal with than the eyes that're currently boring holes into him. "It's not like I want to do this either, but what other choice do we have? Could you really go without ever talking about it? Because honestly, it's already eating me alive, Link."

"No, I know. I'm just..." Link huffs out a weak, frustrated laugh before admitting, "I'm really freaking scared, man. I don't want anything to change."

"Me neither," Rhett agrees, daring to look up as he knocks his knee against Link's with a brief, commiserating smile. "And I can't guarantee that nothing'll change, but I _can_ promise you that I'm still gonna be here, no matter what. Can't get rid of me that easily, Neal."

A look of obvious relief flits over Link's face and his next laugh sounds a bit more genuine when he says, "Same, brother. I've invested way too many years to just give up on you now."

Amused, Rhett arches an eyebrow. "You sayin' you haven't gotten a return on your investment yet?"

He's skirting dangerous territory again, slipping too easily into something that could be called flirtation, but he just can't help it. He's always been naturally curious; hungry for truth and too inquisitive for his own good. And now, more than anything, he wants to follow this path. To see Link's reaction. To watch him get all flustered in a way Rhett's never seen him before.

Sure enough, Link's face starts to flush and he fights a grin, warning, "Stop tryin'a be cute."

"I don't have to try, it just happens naturally," Rhett responds, looking at Link with his best 'I am perfectly innocent' Bambi eyes.

"Rhett." It's a different kind of warning this time. Heavier. Lacking that playful edge. An attempt to get them back on track because they've both been stalling; one hand grasping the edge of a band-aid but too afraid to yank it off.

Rhett pushes his fingers through his hair, breathing out long through his nose. "Sorry."

"It's just-"

"I get it."

"-if we don't do it now-"

"I know."

"-then I'm never gonna-"

"I know, man," Rhett cuts him off gently. "It's okay."

A long moment of silence stretches between them, neither knowing how to take the first awkward step.

"Did you like it?" When Link finally speaks, his voice is so quiet. Barely more than a whisper.

He doesn't need to clarify what the 'it' is.

Rhett knows.

His eyes instinctively fly up to latch onto Link's, seeing the way they shine with an emotion Rhett can't put a name to, the way his Adam's apple bobs nervously, and Rhett has to swallow through the sudden too-tight lump in his own throat. 

This is it. The defining moment that'll send them down one of two possible paths. He has the power to change everything or nothing with little more than a single word, but with the way Link is staring back at him, Rhett knows he couldn't lie if his life depended on it right now.

"I haven't stopped thinking about it," he says hoarsely, more honest - not just with Link, but with _himself_ \- than he's maybe ever been before.

It's not a good answer. It only complicates everything. He could've said 'no', that the kiss was a mistake, and it would've been painful and embarrassing but they'd work through it and still come out as best friends on the other side. Everything would go back to normal.

The problem is, Rhett's not sure if 'normal' is enough for him anymore.

All the air leaves Link's lungs in a big, gusty sigh as he pulls his glasses off, scrubbing at his face with one hand before he slips them back into place and sums everything up with a short, succinct, "Shit."

It's so simple and yet so true, Rhett almost laughs, but before he can even open his mouth, all at once Link is moving, body launching across the empty space between them until he lands in a half-kneel with one foot tucked up on the cushions and the other flat on the floor, both hands pressing into the back of the sofa on either side of Rhett's head.

And then he leans down and kisses Rhett like he's starving for it.

It's rushed, messy and frantic and too hard, but it's so, so _good_.

The noise Rhett makes is instinctual, a gut-punched groan that comes from somewhere deep in his chest as his hands find Link's hips, slide up his back and grasp handfuls of his t-shirt just below his shoulder blades. He always forgets how broad Link is across the shoulders, how much strength is hidden in that deceptively thin frame, but there's no missing it now; not with the way Link's leaning over him, kissing with enough force to make Rhett's head crane all the way back.

This isn't talking. This is the exact opposite of talking. Rhett knows he needs to stop, to steer them back on course, but when he finally manages to pull his mouth away from Link's, panting for air and hot all over, Link's neck is _right there_ and Rhett...well. He's only human.

Like an out-of-body experience, he's sucking a hickey over Link's pulse point before he even knows it, letting his teeth drag over smooth, warm skin, tasting all the spots he's been subconsciously studying for so long.

Link swears shakily under his breath, giving up on his attempt to balance and dropping all of his weight down into Rhett's lap. And Rhett is _so_ unprepared, like he's just been doused with whatever the opposite of a cold bucket of water is. Still shocking, yes, but nowhere close to unpleasant. The sudden influx of heat and pressure is too much, too good, and just like that he's hard in his pants.

" _God_ , Link-" he gasps against Link's throat, trying to come to terms with the weird sensation of feeling too overwhelmed while still craving more.

Hooking one arm around the back of Rhett's neck, Link gets his other hand into the thick of Rhett's hair, fingers twining through the curls just like he did the first time they kissed. Rhett would tease him about having a kink if he were able to compose anything close to an articulate sentence right now.

Lucky for him, he doesn't need to say a thing; Link admits to it freely.

"Your freaking hair," Link murmurs, tugging just enough to make Rhett groan, "is driving me crazy."

Rhett drags his hands down Link's back then grabs him firmly by the hips, relishing the way Link's breath hitches at the contact. "You like it?"

Link rolls his eyes, but there's a smile tugging at his lips and he can't hide the fondness in his voice when he replies, "You know I do." He ducks back in, pressing two more swift kisses to Rhett's mouth before adding, "Asshole."

Rhett laughs, tugging Link in closer so he can initiate the next kiss, slower and longer but still done all too soon when he leans his head back just a little, creating enough space to wonder against Link's lips, "So this is a thing we do now? Kissin' each other?"

Link's eyes dart away, fingers playing anxiously with the collar at the back of Rhett's shirt. "Honestly? I...I think I want it to be. Makes me feel like a pretty shitty person though."

"You're not," Rhett promises him, bringing one hand up to grasp the back of Link's neck, giving him no option but to look Rhett in the eye. "Hey - look at me - you're _not_ , Link. If anything, it's the opposite. It's proof you've got such a big heart, there's room enough in there for Christy and for me. How can that be bad?"

The laugh Link lets out is short and cracking with emotion, lacking any real humor. "You make it sound so admirable, but it's cheating, man. We're - gosh, I want this so bad, but we can't, Rhett. We _can't_."

There's a desperation in his voice that makes Rhett's chest ache, and deep down, a part of him knows that Link is right. But the larger, more stubborn part of him is terrified to even consider the possibility of losing this part of Link now that he's finally had it.

"You don't know that," he tries to argue, moving his hand from the back of Link's neck to the side of his jaw, thumb swiping gentle across Link's cheek. Link leans into it for a moment but then he's quick to push Rhett's hand away, only adding to the painful throb in Rhett's chest. "We just have to talk to them. Lay it all out on the table. Maybe-"

"Maybe what?" Link interrupts, uncharacteristically callous, which tells Rhett just how high his anxiety is spiking. "Maybe they'll be cool with their husbands wanting to fuck each other?"

He's looking for a reaction, trying to provoke Rhett into a fight. Rhett knows it, but he still can't help flinching at Link's blunt choice of words.

"Don't," he says quietly. "Link, you know it's not just about sex. We haven't even - we haven't _done_ anything."

Link sighs, voice losing some of its bite as he deflates against Rhett, letting their foreheads come to rest against each other's. "We're not innocent, either. We've still done enough to make me feel guilty as hell."

"I'm feeling it too, man, trust me." Rhett rubs his palm up and down the length of Link's back, trying to comfort himself just as much as Link. He's been striving so hard to be the best version of himself - good father, good husband, morally upstanding human being - the thought of scrawling 'cheater' across that list makes him feel sick to his stomach. "I still love Jessie just as much as I ever have. Just as much as you still love Christy. There's just...more room in me now. A greater capacity for love. You know how cows have four stomachs? It's like that. An extra chamber opened up that I didn't know I had."

Link's chuckle is faint but it's there; a soft puff of breath rolling warm across Rhett's mouth. With their foreheads still touching, he tilts his head, nose brushing Rhett's tentatively when he says, "Ignoring the disturbing cow thing...you said love." His voice dips lower then, rough and wobbling slightly with nerves. "You love me?"

Rhett pulls in a breath, his own voice gone hoarse as he nudges into the brush of their noses. "'Course I do, bo."

Their faces are so close, it's easy to see the way Link's eyes go glassy, and Rhett can feel the fingers that're still at the back of his shirt clench hard into the fabric, like Link's afraid of the answer he'll get when he half-demands, half-begs, "Say it."

"I love you, Link." There's no hesitation. The words fly out of Rhett like he's said them in this context a million times before - and hell, maybe he has and he just never realized it.

The sound Link makes is wounded and relieved all at once, glassiness spilling over into a few actual tears as he tucks his face into Rhett's shoulder and hugs him tight enough to ache. Or maybe that's just Rhett. It feels like more of a cathartic, healing kind of hurt than anything else.

He hugs Link back just as tight, kisses the side of his head, then gives him as long as he needs to gather himself back together. They've got the time and Rhett's eyes aren't exactly dry at the moment either, especially not when Link turns his head and presses his mouth to Rhett's throat, warm and heartfelt, whispering, "I love you too."

Amazing, how four simple words can tilt your entire world onto a brand new axis.

Swallowing through the thickness in his throat, Rhett leans to rest his temple on the crown of Link's head. "I know it's scary," Rhett tells him, voice quiet. "It's a risk, but it feels worth it to me. _You're_ worth it to me," he emphasizes, "and you're not gonna go through any of this alone. We're gonna do it together, just like we've tackled every other scary thing. Side by side, brave on the outside but secretly scared shitless."

Link chuckles against Rhett's neck, slowly sitting up from his slumped position where he'd half-curled himself around Rhett's torso. His eyes are still shiny, but now the sheen only emphasizes how clear of a blue they are; fear and stress replaced with what Rhett can only think to describe as literal bright-eyed, bushy-tailedness. There's optimism there. Hope. 

Pressing his lips together, Link looks at him for a long time, eyes studying every inch of Rhett's face like he's searching for an answer. He must find it eventually because he nods, short and jerky at first but gaining confidence as he settles into the reality of his decision, breathing out a long breath and saying, "Okay."

"Yeah?" Rhett checks with him, giving Link one last chance to back out before they really do this.

"Yeah. You're worth it to me too," Link says, no trace of doubt in his voice. "So I wanna do it. Let's talk to them."

* * *

They say it takes 21 days to form a habit, but sliding into bed that night it feels entirely natural to look over and see the topography of Link's body snuggled under the duvet; varying peaks and valleys making up the length of his shoulders, waist and hips.

Warmth fills Rhett's chest at the sight and he finds himself gravitating towards the centre of the mattress, closer than he'd normally dare as he whispers, "Hey."

True to form, Link looks like he's seconds away from unconsciousness already, but he still blinks his half-closed eyes up to meet Rhett's, prompting him to continue with a questioning, "Hmm?"

"It's - nothing, really," Rhett falters part way through, still adjusting to this newfound freedom he's allowed to have, "just...I love you, man."

Pleased, Link hides half of his sleepy grin in the edge of his pillow, feet inching over to twine with Rhett's under the covers. "Love you back. Now shut your damn eyes, some of us 're trying to sleep."


	8. Chapter 8

When Rhett wakes up, his first thought is that he's grateful the last day of their experiment happens to fall on a weekend.

He and Link are pretty attached at the hip during work hours anyway, but with no set schedule getting in the way, no keen eyes or rolling cameras catching their every move, he can spend the day sticking even closer to Link's side. Fully appreciate their last few hours together. Soak in the novelty of pressing kisses to Link's mouth and neck, of sliding their fingers together or murmuring an _I love you_ whenever the mood strikes.

Link seems to feel the same; letting his eyes linger on Rhett for longer than he usually would, taking any opportunity to brush against Rhett's chest or back as they move around each other in the kitchen, starting coffee and cooking eggs, then sitting with kneecaps touching under the table as they eat. Content to be close, no matter how small the touch might be.

That relaxed, easy mood carries through the rest of the morning so they roll with it, carving out time to do the stuff they rarely get a chance to do together anymore thanks to deadlines and kids and the hectic-ness of life in general. 

After breakfast, while it's still early enough that the sun hasn't made the temperature outside too unbearable yet, Link packs a backpack while Rhett grabs their video equipment and they make the drive out to Brush Canyon, hiking the barren, rocky trails and recording some of the nicer scenery while Link grumbles good-naturedly over being the one who has to carry the backpack.

They bring water and apples and a handful of Lando's string cheese, camping out in the shade when they need a break, trading sweaty, dust-covered kisses that taste like honeycrisps, and Rhett knows that from that point forward, he won't be able to eat another apple without thinking about that moment.

The afternoon gets much more lazy, spent curled up on the couch together with Barbara and Jade, alternating between napping and talking, only half-watching whatever movie they've pulled up on screen.

It's comfortable. Satisfying. Absurdly domestic. And Rhett loves every second of it.

But like time tends to do, all good things end too soon and before Rhett knows it, it's 6 o'clock and they've got to start making the drive to the airport to pick up the rest of the Neals and McLaughlins.

"You know," Rhett says, setting his packed bags down by the front door, "I start to think I might actually miss this, but then I remember what an insanely picky eater you are, how you take forever in the bathroom, the way you chew so loud-"

With one arm shoved through the sleeve of his jean jacket, Link stops to shoot Rhett an amused glare. "Any time you want to wrap it up..."

"Your morning breath," Rhett adds, laughing and jumping out of the way when Link moves in like he's gonna smack him. "Seriously though. I am gonna miss it, man."

"Me too." Link smiles, pushing his other arm through its sleeve before straightening out the collar of his jacket. "Maybe we could make this a regular thing? Like take a week every year and escape the city for a while. Go off the grid. Find some little cabin in the woods and just...be. Together. Eat food and write songs and do whatever we want."

God, Rhett can't think about that too hard or else he just might cry.

"Sounds like heaven," he admits. "I'm gonna make you the best campfire beans."

Link bursts out laughing, head thrown back and eyes turning all crinkly at the corners in a way that makes Rhett's insides go warm. "I'll settle for s'mores, but I appreciate the sentiment," he chuckles. "Thanks, baby."

"Baby, huh?" Rhett rumbles, reaching out to pull Link in by the hips. That's a new development; one he can't say he's unhappy about.

Link shrugs, letting himself be manhandled as Rhett drags him in close. He's trying to look unaffected, but Rhett can see the way he's starting to blush. "Just somethin' I thought I'd try."

"Well..." Rhett draws the word out, moving his mouth to Link's ear and finishing, "I'm on board with it, honey."

Link makes a noise somewhere in between a laugh and a groan, briefly squeezing Rhett around the waist before he pushes him back, ordering, "Don't do that, man. We gotta leave and I can't deal with all _this_ ," he waves his hand around in front of Rhett in a big, encompassing gesture, "when you say stuff like that."

Rhett grins, tucking his hands in his pockets in an attempt to resist touching Link again. "You sayin' my good looks are too distracting for you, Neal?"

"You wish," Link snorts, grabbing up his car keys from the side table before he leans around the corner and yells into the main of the house, calling for the dogs. "The day you finally admit that I'm a silver fox, then we'll talk about that mug of yours."

There's a flurry of click-clacking nails on wooden flooring as Jade and Barbara come scampering over, eager for car adventures, so Rhett crouches down and scoops a wriggly Barbara up around her middle, scratching behind one white, fluffy ear.

"Ha, you might be waiting a while for that, buddy," he says, as if he wouldn't cave to one of Link's requests in a heartbeat.

From the half-smile that tilts the corner of Link's mouth, he knows it too.

* * *

It's easy to slide back into old routines.

As much as he enjoyed his week at Link's, Rhett missed the hustle and bustle of his own house; the noise of the boys yelling to each other from separate rooms, the constant tripping over abandoned sports equipment scattered through the hallway, the soft, pleasant sound of Jessie humming along to her favourite playlist as she folds laundry or tucks herself into the corner of the couch with a book. It's all become a comforting component of his life.

He's happy to have things back to normal.

It's good.

It's _great_.

But he also can't stop thinking about Link.

Worse than that, he has no idea when or how to broach the topic with Jessie. Rhett doesn't want to drop a bomb on her the minute they get home from the airport, but leaving it unspoken for too long feels deceitful. She deserves to know the truth.

So on the second day of their return to normalcy, with uneasiness swirling in the pit of his stomach, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and texts Link with slightly clumsy fingers: _Gonna tell Jess today._

He stares at the screen unblinkingly and after a minute, little ellipses pop up as Link starts typing a reply. They disappear and reappear a bunch of times, making Rhett breathe out a huff of frustration mixed with amusement. Apparently Link's struggling with what to say just as much as Rhett is.

_You don't have to tell Christy yet if you're not ready,_ he types in a follow up message, _but you know she and Jessie will talk._

_No, I'll tell her_ , Link finally writes back. _Almost said it last night but I chickened out at the last minute._ _I'm so nervous dude._

_Me too_ , Rhett replies. He almost adds a reassuring 'everything will be fine', but his thumb hovers uncertainly over the 'e' button as he frowns down at the tiny keyboard on screen. Will it actually be okay? Their wives are both wonderful, compassionate people, but this is a lot - possibly _too much_ \- to ask of anyone.

Changing tactics, he taps out, _No matter what happens_ , _I'm gonna be here for you. Always._

When Link's reply pops up, it's a simple two words, but they do loads to ease the queasy feeling in Rhett's stomach: _Same. Always_.

An instant later, a blue heart emoji pops up and Rhett smiles, re-pocketing his phone before he takes a deep, steadying breath and goes off in search of his wife, as ready as he'll ever be to make a confession that could crumble the foundation of their entire relationship.

So yeah, no pressure.

* * *

He finds her in the den, reading through some permission forms for an upcoming school trip of Locke's.

Hovering at the threshold of the room, Rhett knocks on the edge of the door frame with two knuckles, prompting Jessie to glance up with a smile.

"Hey, you got a minute?"

"For you, two minutes," she replies, smile morphing into a confused tilt of her mouth when Rhett steps fully into the space and proceeds to shut the door behind him.

With an almost ceremonious level of care, he walks around the coffee table and slowly lowers himself onto one side of the sofa, patting the empty cushion next to him. "Could you...? I don't want to have this conversation like a business meeting," he explains with a strained chuckle, trying for levity.

"Uh oh." There's still a lighthearted tone to Jessie's voice, but it's more reserved now. Open-minded but braced for bad news. "It's going to be that kind of conversation?"

Rhett rubs his sweaty palms on his kneecaps and swallows. "Yeah." There's no use in sugar-coating it.

Frowning, Jessie swivels her chair away from the desk and stands, coming to sit next to Rhett. "Alright." She pats his thigh reassuringly before declaring, "Lay it on me."

Rhett is 85% certain he's going to puke.

"So, last week. At Link's..." God, this is even harder than he'd imagined. "Something happened. I...we realized..."

Jessie's hand falls away from his leg as she leans into the arm of the couch, one leg crossed over the other and hands clasping loosely in her lap, studying him wordlessly. So far there's no judgement on her face - there's not much of _anything_ on her face, really. It's blank and waiting. Rhett's not sure if that's a good sign or not.

Taking a fortifying breath, Rhett thinks of the little blue heart tucked away in his pocket and rips the band-aid off, blurting, "We have feelings for each other. I...I have romantic feelings. For Link."

Jessie is so silent, all Rhett can hear is the tick of the clock on the wall and his own pulse thundering loud and nervous in his ears.

"I - I need you to know I didn't go looking for this," he tries to explain, fumbling for words that won't just twist the knife deeper. "There's nothing missing here. I love you just as much as I always have-"

"It's funny, almost," Jessie finally speaks, cutting him off.

Rhett shuts his mouth and lets her say whatever she needs to. He at least owes her that much.

"I think in the back of my mind, a piece of me has been waiting for this conversation to happen for years." She's not looking at Rhett, instead staring absently across the room as she sorts through emotions and interprets them into words. "Christy and I have talked about it, you know. Of course, alcohol was usually involved whenever the topic came up, but still. We did talk about the what ifs." A quick, fleeting ghost of a smile flashes across her face when she adds, "Christy likes to call it our Grace and Frankie contingency."

"Jessie..." Rhett feels like he's about to keel over. They _knew_. Somehow they knew _years_ before he ever did. God, has it always been obvious? Or has he just always been that oblivious?

Pushing that revelation aside for the moment - he's gonna need a lot of time and possibly a therapy appointment before he can process all that - he focuses on the more important subtext of what Jessie is saying, looking her square in the face and assuring with firm, steady honesty, "I don't want to leave you. I'm not asking for that."

"Okay." Jessie gives a short, unsteady nod of her head, neutral exterior finally cracking as her initial shock slides away and the fear underneath starts to show. "Okay, that's...good."

"I love you," Rhett promises. "So much. Nothing's changed there. It's just now...now I love him too. "

At that, Jessie’s face takes on a doubtful, surprised look and she wonders out loud, “Really? Only now?”

There’s something knowing in her eyes, perceptive in a way that makes Rhett frown uncomfortably. He hates feeling like the dumbest person in the room. “What do you mean?”

“I want you to think back. To when you were...let’s say, fourteen,” Jessie settles on. “You’d be out riding your bike and you’d look over and see Link pedaling next to you. How did that make you feel?”

He’s still not sure what she’s getting at, but Rhett acquiesces, digging around in his brain for an appropriate memory and thinking back to warm spring days, the breeze in his face as he pedals till his legs burn, Link laughing loud and bright as he races Rhett down bumpy old roads that seem to stretch on forever. Locking eyes and grinning big, competitive grins as they push each other to go faster and faster, and when Rhett catches that look of sheer, exhilarated _joy_ on Link’s face, his heart swells, too big for his chest.

He finds himself smiling at the thought. “Fearless,” he answers. “Untouchable. Like we were gods, like we owned the whole town.”

“Okay,” Jessie continues, “and how about when you were twenty? When Link was in the hospital?”

God, Rhett’s heart rate spikes just from the reminder of that alone. Link had been so confused, he remembers. In good spirits but lacking any idea of where he was or what’d happened. Eyebrows pulled together with concern as he asked Rhett over and over _why aren’t you hurt?_ Because even through the fog of pain and drugs and concussion symptoms, he’d known that Rhett should have been there at his side. That they did everything together.

And Rhett had smiled and laughed and held it together on the outside, but when it was just him alone at the side of Link’s hospital bed, he’d had to fight down the telltale burn of tears. The thick clog in his throat. Brace against the sudden impact of bone-deep terror that rocked him hard because Link could have _died_. He’d almost gone where Rhett couldn’t follow. And nothing could’ve been scarier than that.

_“Oh_ ,” Rhett says, and it feels kind of like he’s been labouring over a puzzle for his entire life, nose hovering an inch above the pieces, only to finally step back and view the whole, completed picture.

Next to him, Jessie gives a faint smile. “Exactly. And the way he looks at you? Out of everyone, I should know what it looks like to be in love with Rhett McLaughlin.”

On instinct, Rhett reaches for her hand and Jessie lets him take it, looking down at their twined fingers when she says, "I knew when I married you that you were a package deal. I love Link." She smiles a bit ruefully. "Obviously not in the same way that you do, but he's family and I care about his happiness. To ask you to deny yourselves something you both want...to push down these feelings for the rest of your lives...especially when it's something you could so easily have? Someone who wants you back _,_ just as much as you want them? How could I do that to you?"

"It wouldn't make you a bad person," Rhett interjects, voice hoarse. "There's nothing wrong with wanting your husband to be faithful to you."

Jessie shakes her head. "I couldn't ask you to make that sacrifice. I know how much he means to you, and what you mean to him. You're not... _whole_ without each other." She goes quiet, lips pressed together thoughtfully as she works something out in her head, and eventually she must reach some kind of conclusion because she takes a long, deep breath, squeezing Rhett's fingers and deciding, "So, I guess what I'm saying is...if you want to act on those feelings, you have my blessing."

Rhett stops breathing, stunned.

He can feel himself gaping and it must be literal because Jessie smiles softly at him, tucking two fingers under his chin to gently close his half-opened mouth.

"Jess..." Rhett starts to say, but words fail him entirely. She's just given him the world, opened a door he'd resigned himself to keeping sealed shut for the rest of his life. What can he possibly say in return?

"There’s still a lot we’ll have to talk about, obviously - all four of us, setting boundaries and all of that - but for now, it’s...it’s okay. _We’re_ okay. Or at least we will be once I actually manage to wrap my head around all of this.”

_We’re okay._

Like those were the magic words he didn’t know he’d been waiting for, they cut through the last of the tension bottled up tight in Rhett’s muscles, unraveling like snipped threads, falling away and pooling into pure, wonder-filled relief, and when he pulls in his next breath, it feels like he’s breathing uninhibited for the first time in a week.

“I need to ask you for one thing, though," Jessie adds, and whatever it is, Rhett is already prepared to move heaven and earth to give it to her.

"Anything." His voice cracks a little from the earnestness of the promise.

"Can you both keep it under wraps for a while? I might be okay with this in theory, but I’m not ready to see my husband kiss anyone else yet," Jessie says, a tiny grin peeking out like the sunrise behind a mountain when she tacks on, "even if it is _Link_."

Overwhelmed with gratitude, relief, and a thousand other emotions he hasn't quite processed yet, Rhett laughs a loud, deep belly laugh before leaning in, pressing a hard, thankful kiss to her temple. "I love you."

Rubbing a hand soothingly across his back, Jessie smiles. "I know. Now go get your boy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to GoodbyeBlues for the helpful feedback on this chapter and inspiring Jessie's line about knowing what it looks like to be in love with Rhett. 
> 
> Only one chapter left and the rating will be changing ;)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe we've reached the end! Thank you all so much for the support and kind comments <3

They call it the Creative House - a cozy, three bedroom rental home intended to be a purely inspirational play space; a hideaway from the everyday routine and constant interruptions of their office at Mythical. Meant to help them get back to their roots, foster ideas and boost creativity.

And, ever since their relationship has taken on a new facet - no longer just best friends and business partners but _romantic_ partners as well - it's also come in handy for...other things.

Link presses Rhett down onto their bed, mouth working on the side of Rhett's neck as his fingers slide up under the front of Rhett's shirt, touching everywhere, greedy and hot.

He keeps biting at the space where Rhett's neck meets his shoulder and Rhett groans at the feeling, gliding his palms across the width of Link’s back. He can never get enough of the way Link feels against him - all solid, compact muscle and smooth, warm skin – so when Link starts to shift and pull away, Rhett really can’t be blamed for the short, bitten-off noise of disappointment that slips from his throat.

“I’m not stopping,” Link assures him, breathing hard as he fumbles his way up to sitting. “I just – just gotta-” Instead of finishing the thought he tugs his shirt up over his head, balling it up and firing it off the side of the bed, not caring where it lands.

"Yeah," Rhett agrees roughly, more than okay with Link's decision to lose some clothing. He uses the brief pause to prop himself up and peel off his own shirt, letting it join Link's somewhere on the floor before he relaxes back onto one elbow, patting the wrinkled bedsheets next to him. "C'mon, get your ass back over here, Neal."

"Why?" Link's answering grin is playful, eyes shining a bright, happy blue as they roam over Rhett's newly-exposed torso. "You got plans or something?"

Rhett can feel himself grinning back, so in love it's goddamn ridiculous. "Won't find out unless you get over here."

That seems to be enough incentive for Link and he drops forward onto his hands, crawling up the bed until he's hovering directly over Rhett, palms and knees sinking into the mattress on either side of Rhett's body.

"Hi," he says, all soft and fond and a little bit goofy as he gazes down at Rhett.

"Hi," Rhett replies, reaching to push Link's glasses up from where they've started to slide half way down his nose.

He nudges the frames up gently from one corner, just like Link always does, but before he can lower his arm, Link grabs for it, keeping it held up close to his face and tilting his head so he can press an appreciative kiss to the inside of Rhett's wrist.

It's just the right amount of sappy to get Rhett's voice stuck in his throat, and Link, the jerk, knows exactly what he's doing, smiling knowingly against Rhett's skin before he lets go and Rhett's arm flops back down uselessly.

"You're so easy, man," Link laughs, settling the bulk of his weight down onto the tops of Rhett's thighs as he slides his palms up Rhett's chest, using him for balance.

"Like you're not?" Rhett counters, fighting a shiver when one of Link's thumbs brushes over his nipple. "I seem to recall you sayin' some pretty sweet things for me last week when I had my mouth on your-"

"Okay!" Link flushes, and Rhett'll never get tired of the way he can flip from confident to bashful in an instant whenever it comes to sex. There's no other word for it but _cute_. "Jeez, you don't gotta _pull receipts_. Is that how the kids say it?"

Rhett snorts, letting his hands come to rest comfortably on the outsides of Link's spread legs. He's still got his pants on; Rhett's gonna have to rectify that soon. "Why're you asking me? I'm older than you are."

"Sure," Link agrees with a shrug, "but you also have an answer for everything." He leans down a little more, murmuring only inches from Rhett's mouth, "Even if you're just bullshitting ninety-eight percent of the time."

"Hey!" Rhett laughs, bringing his hands from Link's legs up to lock around his middle, jostling him playfully. "C'mon, man. Fifty percent of the time, at most."

Despite the supportive barrier of Rhett's arms, Link still almost topples over, letting out a loud, surprised laugh before he manages to steady himself with one hand on the mattress and the other laid flat over Rhett's heart. He shakes his head, looking down at Rhett so affectionately, Rhett's gotta take a moment to commit the whole scene to memory; taking a visual snapshot to tuck away in the back of his mind so he can pull it out to look at again and again.

"Be real, man. It's like, seventy-five at least," Link says, eyes glittering with amusement as he bends all the way forward, shifting the press of his weight from Rhett's thighs to his pelvis. The hand on Rhett's chest starts a long, steady climb up to curl around the side of Rhett's neck, just beneath his ear, and when Rhett swallows, he can feel the pad of Link's thumb tucked tight against his throat.

Link's palm is hot, or maybe it’s Rhett’s skin that feels like fire as he breathes out shakily, feels the way his heart’s beating hard in his chest.

"Sixty-five," he murmurs, wanting to get in the last word before things progress any further and he loses all higher brain function.

Link hums, not agreeing or disagreeing. Tipping forward another inch, his nose brushes Rhett's, soft and teasing, and Rhett closes his eyes, tilts his head, and meets him halfway.

The Rhett of one year ago would’ve put money on himself having some kind of internal crisis by now, but instead he just tightens an arm around the small of Link's back, yanks him closer and deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue into Link's mouth.

Link practically melts into him, rolling his body into Rhett's until they're grinding against each other and the heat that's been kindling low in Rhett's belly flares up into tall, licking flames.

“ _Link_ ,” he mumbles against Link’s mouth. There's so much he wants to get his hands on, he doesn't even know where to start first; roaming from soft, styled hair down to the strong breadth of Link's shoulders and across the slim cut of his hipbones. He feels big and real and _solid_ in a way that’s still so novel to Rhett, and damn if Rhett can’t get enough of it.

He’s not sure who initiates it when their hands start venturing lower, but it doesn’t really come as a surprise when he finds himself palming Link’s ass with both hands, guiding him in as they keep rocking against each other steadily.

Link breaks the kiss to lean his head back and now he’s panting open-mouthed, eyes half closed and throat bobbing when he swallows, breathing out, “Gosh, Rhett.”

Rhett groans in a way that hopefully comes across as agreement. The friction feels incredible, but it's the look on Link's face that's really doing it for him.

The next roll of Link's hips aligns perfectly with Rhett's, matching erections dragging alongside each other in one smooth, hard thrust, and it's so unbearably _good_ , Rhett desperately needs to get himself out of his jeans before he makes a mess of them.

"Hold up for a sec," he pants, trying to wedge one hand down between their bodies.

Link bats his arm away, leaning back in to nose along the edge of Rhett's beard. He presses kisses as he goes, working a path up Rhett’s neck until he reaches Rhett's mouth and murmurs lowly, “Let me.”

Rhett would let him do just about anything in that moment, so it’s easy to lie there and keep trading long, needy kisses as Link’s hand moves to the front of Rhett's jeans, popping the button and tugging the zipper down as far as it'll go.

The first touch makes his breath hitch. Link’s hand is big, warm, slightly rough. It feels so good, Rhett has to actively think about pacing himself or this’ll all be over way too soon. His dick is already _so_ wet, leaking precome like Link’s somehow magically coaxing it out of him, and the wetness only serves to help the tight, hot slide when Link starts to move his hand, making Rhett groan as his hips instinctively buck into it, chasing the feeling.

He’s torn between watching Link’s face - the way his pupils have dilated and his mouth’s dropped open to pull in shallow, unsteady breaths - and his arm – the ridiculous muscle definition in his shoulder and bicep leading down to a strong, tanned forearm and hand - and god, he looks so good. It _feels_ so good. Rhett's gotta touch him back. Wants to make Link feel even half as incredible as he feels right now.

“Link-” It cracks a little when it comes out so he swallows, tries again. “Can I – I want to-”

Link cuts him off with another kiss, hard and hot, before pulling back to breathe, “Oh gosh, yeah.”

It’s a bit difficult since Link’s still wearing pants - those soft, slate-coloured joggers that're tight around the ankles and drive Rhett absolutely _crazy_ \- but after some fumbling and wriggling and tugging, they’ve got them pushed down enough to give Rhett a clear view of what’s been hiding underneath. 

The male genitalia are not an inherently good-looking piece of human anatomy, Rhett has always maintained, but he thinks he could make an exception for Link’s dick. Because, like everything else about Link, there is no other way to describe it but attractive.

Feeling like he’s moving in slow-motion, Rhett slips an arm between their bodies, and when he curls his fingers around the base of Link’s erection, it’s a large, comfortable handful. Warm and hard but silky soft at the same time. Similar to his own but different enough to have him breathing hard as arousal zings down his spine.

Rhett tightens his fist and lets it slide up slow until his thumb can explore the wetness leaking from the tip.

Link makes a choked noise, hips thrusting into Rhett’s grip, and from there it’s just second nature to start jerking him off in earnest.

“Oh my god,” Link says so quietly he might be talking to himself, but Rhett hums in agreement anyway, tilting his head until he can bump his nose along the side of Link’s. He just wants to be close, but he’ll always take more kissing if the option’s there.

Link still seems to be half-stunned, drunk on the feeling of Rhett's hand working him over, but after a minute or two he starts to respond, angling his head to meet Rhett and kissing him like he’s trying to suck Rhett's soul out of his body.

"Get the lube," he orders between kisses, and now it's Rhett's turn to go sex-dumb, mouth going slack against Link's as his brain works to process the request.

"Yeah?" he double-checks because they've been doing this for a while now and he's pretty sure he's come to know that tone of voice. That's Link's 'I want you to rail me into this mattress' voice, and if he's right, Rhett is more than happy to comply.

"Yeah," Link confirms with a grin, sitting up and rolling off of Rhett so he can tug his pants off entirely.

Leaning over the edge of the bed, Rhett grabs the bottle out of the side table drawer, letting it drop onto the sheets next to him before he lifts his hips and pulls down his jeans and briefs all at once, tossing them in the general direction of where he figures his shirt might've landed earlier. 

When Link joins him back on the bed, he's naked as the day he was born, smiling and flushed as he swipes up the bottle of lube, announcing, "I'm doin' this part. You'll take too long."

"It's called _foreplay_ ," Rhett argues. "You really gonna get on my case for making you feel _too_ good?"

"You're just gonna tease me, " Link replies, knowing Rhett too well, "and I wanna come from your dick, not your fingers."

Rhett chokes on a startled laugh, not expecting such a casually blunt statement. "Jesus, Link."

"What?" Link says, as if he's not entirely aware of what he's doing, looking all smiley and pleased with himself as he reclines next to Rhett, popping the cap open on the bottle.

Grinning, Rhett just shakes his head, shifting from his back onto his side so he can watch when Link bends his knees up and slips one hand down between his legs.

Rhett alternates between running a hand along the warm expanse of Link's stomach and occasionally dropping it lower to play with Link's neglected dick, giving it a few slow, leisurely tugs before letting go and starting the whole circuit over again.

"Told you you were a freakin' tease," Link groans out when Rhett pulls his hand away for the third time, leaving Link's dick flushed pink and straining for more attention.

Rhett presses his palm flat to the low of Link's belly, leaning in to nose at his ear and murmuring, "Can't help it. I love gettin' you all riled up."

Link makes a noise in his throat, needy and frustrated, reaching around with his free hand until he finds the lube and all but hurls it at Rhett. "Get yourself ready. I'm dyin' here, man."

As fun as teasing Link is, Rhett's more than ready to move things along too, so he pushes himself up onto his knees and fishes a condom out of the drawer. Getting situated between Link's legs, he gets distracted by the sight for a minute – Link three fingers deep in himself, biting his lip and looking damn near _edible_ \- but when Link kicks him weakly with one heel and groans, " _Rhett,_ " it spurs him back into motion, ripping open the packaging and rolling on the condom before slicking up with a generous amount of lube. 

One hand holding the base of his dick, he shuffles forward, angling his hips in until he’s nestled up tight against Link's hole, rim stretched just loose enough to allow the head of Rhett’s cock to sink in half an inch before it meets any resistance.

"Fuck," Rhett breathes, burning hot all over.

He loves this part - they both do - and when he manages to tear his eyes away and look up at Link's face, Link's got his mouth open as he breathes heavy, pupils blown and gaze never leaving Rhett.

Rhett works his way in slow; moving with short, measured rolls of his hips that leave them both panting from how good it feels. Link is so tight and hot, takes him so well, Rhett's constantly surprised he has any stamina at all when they do this.

"Gosh," he breathes once he's all the way in, pelvis coming to rest flush against Link's ass. "How do you always feel so incredible?"

Link's answering laugh is high and breathy, drunk off endorphins as his eyes roam Rhett's face. "Been wonderin' the same about you."

The urge to kiss that warm, loopy smile off of Link's face is too strong to ignore so Rhett ducks his head and slots their mouths together, easing his hips back before he rocks forward, building up into a steady, repetitive series of thrusts.

" _Oh,_ " Link groans into the kiss, hands closing over Rhett's ribs and tugging him in closer. "Yeah, that's good. Keep goin'."

"Trust me," Rhett promises with a strained chuckle, driving his hips forward again, "I got no plans to stop, honey."

They're not big on pet names - they've already got a ton of nicknames they've been defaulting to for years - so it's rare for one to crop up out of the blue, but when it does, it's usually always during sex. And Rhett is usually always the culprit.

He's not ashamed though. How could he be when it gets Link shivering under him, neck craning back as he breathes out a low, whining noise?

"You like that, huh?" Rhett rumbles, groaning when Link's hips rise up to meet his on the next thrust. "Like havin' me in you, tellin' you how good you feel, callin' you all kinds of nice names, baby?"

Link squeezes his eyes shut, cheeks flushed with what Rhett figures is a combination of exertion and embarrassment. It's a damn good look on him.

"You're the worst," Link grumbles out breathlessly, but the corner of his mouth's started curving up in a way that tells Rhett otherwise.

"I know," Rhett murmurs with a smile, leaning down to kiss him again. Shifting his weight from his palms down onto one elbow, he snakes his other hand between their bodies and wraps it tight around Link's dick, adding, "you're really gonna hate me now."

Link's whole body jerks at the contact and the noise he makes is obscene; a desperate, throaty kind of thing that sounds better to Rhett's ears than any other music they've made together so far.

Rhett shows him no mercy, jerking him off quick and hard, trying to match the movement to the increasingly brutal pace of his hips as he starts fucking into Link with sharp, swift thrusts, operating off of raw need as his body instinctively chases _more, more, more_. His only goal now is to get Link to come because Rhett's hanging by a thread, skin slick with sweat and breathing ragged, feeling like there's fire burning in his veins. He's close - _so_ close - but the cocky, competitive side of him has to make certain that Link comes before him. 

“Look at you,” Rhett tells him with what little air he’s got left, relinquishing control as he lets his mouth take the reins and say whatever it wants. “Lookin’ so damn good like this, Neal. Fuck, you have no idea - no idea what you do to me.”

Link digs his fingers into Rhett's back, breath hitching on every inhale as a shiver ripples its way through him. "Oh, gosh,” he chokes out in warning, “Rhett, I’m gonna-”

“Yeah, c'mon,” Rhett encourages, voice gone all low and thick as he gives one more rough thrust, keeps his hips there and grinds in deep, and just like that Link loses it, coming all over Rhett’s hand, body tensing as he lets out a long, low moan of euphoric relief.

The sight is incredibly hot, and the way Link's started clenching tight around Rhett as he rides out his orgasm is all Rhett needs before he's following, breath stalling in his throat as he finally tips over the edge. He comes with a ragged groan, dropping his head into the sweaty curve of Link's neck and shaking through the swift, heady rush of pleasure and adrenaline.

They lay there in a boneless, brain-dead pile for a while, catching their breaths and pulses leveling out until Link grunts and pushes at Rhett's shoulder, saying, "Heavy."

"Gimmie a minute," Rhett mumbles, trying to get his limbs working again before he's able to heave himself up onto one elbow and start to pull out slowly. The sensation makes them both groan and Rhett rubs a comforting hand along the side of Link's hip once he's done, knowing from experience how weird this part can feel.

He takes the Kleenex Link passes him from the side table, tucks the condom inside, then lobs it in the direction of the trash can, smirking when his aim hold up and he lands the shot.

They could both seriously use showers, but Rhett elects to flop back down next to Link instead, needing a bit more recovery time before his legs’ll hold him up for long enough to make the trek into the bathroom.

He's barely made it flat onto the mattress before Link rolls directly into his space, letting out a long, sated sigh as he throws one arm and leg over Rhett, using him like a human body pillow. Link's still pretty sweaty and his choice of position has the come on his stomach smearing all over Rhett's left hip, but Rhett's not about to complain. Link is usually so quick to want to clean up, half the time 'afterglow' tends to be more like 'micro-glow' in their books.

Letting his head fall back against the nearest pillow, Rhett curves one arm around Link's back and asks, "You ready for tomorrow?"

"Mm," Link hums in response, thinking about it. "A little nervous, but excited. It's gonna feel good to get it all out there." He yawns wide then lays his cheek on Rhett's chest, adding, "No way it can't be a good thing when it's you 'n me, right?"

Rhett tucks his chin down, nose pressing into the silver-black thick of Link's hair. It smells like pomade, sex, and Link. Like the past thirty-six years of his life. Like the next thirty-six, too.

"Yeah," he agrees, and it takes zero percent bullshitting to feel confident in his reply. "Not a chance."

* * *

The first episode of the 5-part series uploads at 3 a.m. Pacific, like always.

In it, they've both got one elbow braced on their desk, shoulders leaned into each other as Link raises his eyebrows, asking the camera, "What if we were a couple?"

And it may be a rhetorical question, but Rhett’s still got an answer for it anyway as he turns in his seat, bringing one hand to the side of Link's jaw and guiding him into a warm, unhurried kiss that lasts for three, four seconds; eyes closed and noses touching.

When they part, he settles back in his chair with an easy smile. "Let's talk about that."


End file.
